Changing Tunes (10 page)

“I didn’t know we were doing names,” I joke. “I’m Ashley.”

“Well, Ashley, I’m Joe, and I live in this here establishment.” He takes his arm and swings it out gesturing to our surroundings.

He’s kind of funny, and cute as hell. Maybe he could be more than a one-time thing? I guess it all depends on how the ‘after’ goes.

“It’s hot in here and we’ve been dancing for a while. Do you want to get a drink?”

I nod and we set out to the table full of liquor bottles. A beer keg sits at its left. Several shot glasses are upside down on the table. I grab one, righting it and grab a bottle of Vodka, pouring myself a shot. I down it and go for round two. That should last me, and it’ll be enough to dull my senses just a tad.

“Wow,” he says, amazed.

“What?”

“I think you were made for me.”

“Why, because I can handle my liquor?”

“You downed it like a pro.”

Shit, the last thing I want to do is talk about my drinking habits with this guy. I just want to get my release, have a little fun, and dance; yes, dance.

I begin to feel the effects of the second shot. “Let’s dance, I say grabbing his hand and leading him back onto the dance floor. A new song by Eminem comes on, and I’m, once again, lost in it. This is not a grinding song, this is a dance by yourself kind of dance song. I decide to have some fun, and see what he’s made of. Let’s see if he can keep up.

I glide in place doing my thing and see him smiling, liking what he’s seeing. He moves with me, keeping up, but doing his own thing. So it seems the boy can dance. All right. He took my challenge and passed with flying colors. The song changes to a sexy, grinding song and I see his face light up in anticipation. As we get slammed back together he says, “You’re fun. How have I not met you yet?”

“I’ve been around.”

“What classes are you taking?”

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to build a relationship with him. He’s a nice guy, and I don’t want to be a bitch, but I don’t want him to know any more about me than he already does.

Deciding it can’t hurt to tell him, I keep it vague, just telling him the basic names of the classes. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask for any more information.

Instead he says, “Wow, beautiful and smart, a lethal combination.” His eyes twinkle and it seems he’s being genuine.

Must be careful with this one.

I don’t respond to his comment. Definitely not a good idea; I don’t want to give him any false hope. I glance around to check on Mac and see her in the same place as before. In a group of people, with a guy standing right next to her listening and holding onto every word she says. He looks smitten with her and I smile at the thought. She deserves to be happy with someone.

Joe interrupts my thoughts, “Hey, who are you looking for? A boyfriend to walk through the door, perhaps?”

I laugh, “Um no, no boyfriend. Just making sure my friend is okay.”

I don’t wait for him to reply; quite frankly, he’s talking way too much. I’m not planning on courting him, for shit’s sake. So I do what I do best, I use my assets to gain his attention and put his mind elsewhere, on me, and some hot sex.

A song comes on that screams me,
American Girl
by Bonnie McKee.
The Warden would be so proud.
I let the music take me to a place I haven’t been since the previous weekend, and it’s been far too long. I need this, this stress relief. I want to get him so hot and bothered that he lets me do all the work, which is what I need.  I swing my hair and my hips, making sure to get as close to him as possible, grinding myself into his leg. I see his eyes darken and know I’m getting him exactly where I want him. While hanging onto his arms I lean myself back just a little bit, getting my
hips
as close to him as possible. I lean back up, and whisper in his ear, “You ready to get out of here now?”

He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he just takes my hand and pulls me away from the crowd. I catch Mac’s eye so she’s knows I’m leaving. She winks at me, smiling, signaling for me to enjoy myself. I can almost hear her saying it. I follow Joe down a hall, and he finally stops at a door, swinging it open. The moment the door’s shut, he says, “It’s about fucking time.”

I shove him towards the couch and straddle him. He begins to do the things I deem as a big no-no. He tries to kiss my neck, grab my tits, and I just can’t let that happen. This is about me, not him.

I pull his hands from my breast and hold them up. “This is how it’s going to go. I’m in charge, and you do what I say, got it?”

Being in charge makes me hot, and I can tell by the look on Joe’s face, he’s certainly not going to complain.

“Okay,” he says breathlessly. “Whatever you want.”

Joe really knows how to kiss, and he’s hot, which helps. Too bad this is going to be a one-time thing. He’s the kind to get attached, and that, I just can’t do. I release his arms and allow him to put them on my waist. I kiss him senseless, and drag myself across his cock, rubbing and getting him so worked up, all he wants to do is screw. He tries to pull my shirt up and over my head.

“Nuh uh,” I say to him, shaking my finger at him. “I’m in charge, remember?”

He grunts in response. I slowly, teasingly my slide fingers up the inside of my shirt, running my hands over my breasts as I go. I watch his eyes get big and can tell he’s desperately trying to hold himself in check. He’s dying to touch me. I pull my shirt over my head, followed by my tank top, and then slowly get up from his lap. Facing him, topless, I slowly undo the first button of my jeans, followed by the next. I shimmy my hips and glide my pants down, finally kicking them off completely.  Standing before him in my underwear, I can see the desire burning brightly in his eyes.

Now it starts to get really interesting. I have him exactly where I want him, but I can tell his eagerness to touch me is going to just about do him in. I have a rule; there’s no touching of my
breasts
allowed. I drag my thong down, ever so slowly, and step closer to him, standing there in all my nakedness. I drop to my knees and lean forward to unbuckle his pants. I take the opportunity to trail my hand firmly over the zipper as I undo it and his eyes roll back at the contact.  He lifts his hips as I pull his jeans down, allowing me to slide them down the length of his legs and finally off over his feet.  His boxer briefs are doing a poor job of containing his excitement, so I quickly relieve him of them and take a minute to admire him. His cock is standing firmly at attention just waiting for me to climb on.

His breathing is heavier, and I see his hands twitch towards me before he catches himself.  I lean away and pick my jeans off of the floor to pull a condom out of the pocket.

“Do you always come prepared?” he asks.

I chuckle, “Always.” I rip the condom open with my teeth and take stock of the ‘toy’ I get to play with, if only for a little while.  He is big, there’s no doubt about that, and I think I’m going to have some fun with him.  I watch him watch me glide the condom down his shaft.  His excitement is mounting and I can see in his eyes just how turned on he is.  His dick twitches in my hand as I finish putting the condom on and stroke him gently a few times. I smile inwardly. He is totally under my control right now.  This is the power I love, that I crave.

He’s ready for me.

I stand up and climb back onto his lap, straddling his hips. He forgets my instructions from earlier and reaches forward to grab my breasts, but I stop him in midair, anticipating the move.

“No, my rules, my way.” I say, moving his hands over his head.  I lean forward and begin to gently slide down his length, running my tongue over his lips and into his mouth as I take him completely inside me. I don’t even give him the chance to speak. Talking is way overrated, and I know exactly what he’d say, anyway, like déjà vu. 

I continue to glide up and down, and as I hear his breathing increase I finally pick up the pace. I allow his hands to rest on each side of my waist. I feel his fingers dig into my skin, as he gets closer to letting go. I nip at his bottom lip before I lean back a little, applying pressure to create the sensation that will get me the release I sorely need. 

“Yeah, just like that.” I say and begin moving even faster. I’m so close to orgasm.  The sensations become overwhelming and my body decides it’s time to let go.  The physical sensations and the control I have over the situation combine, and I am spiraling into bliss, feeling the relief and freedom that is not possible any other way.  Joe follows quickly behind me, and the pulsing sensation as he comes extends my pleasure.

I don’t know what it is about an orgasm that sets me free, but I feel it every time. I think it’s being in control, and setting my own boundaries that I find freeing. I have such little control of anything in my life; this small piece of control keeps me from going insane. For just a brief moment, I’m deciding what I want and making it happen. I know the guys don’t get my ‘no touching’ rule, but they don’t need to. It makes perfect sense to me; it’s too personal, too intimate. Some would say sex is far more intimate, but not to me. It’s getting to know someone’s body, taking the time to see what one likes or dislikes. Touching is far more intimate in my mind. Sex is just that, sex. I’ve never had it with someone I loved, so I don’t know anything different.

I gather my clothes together, and turning to Joe, ask, “Where’s your bathroom?”

He points me in the direction and tells me where the towels are. I nod thanks and go in, locking the door. I clean up and get dressed.

As I walk back into the living room, I notice Joe dressed only from the waist down.

“So, can I see you again?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, Joe, but this was a one-time thing. I don’t have sex with someone more than once.” I reply.

“So I’m good enough to have sex with, but not to date?” he asks, a little ticked off.

“It’s not you, it’s me. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s the truth. It’s just a rule I have, and I don’t have time to date. I’m sorry.”

“So you screw them, and then you leave them?” He doesn’t say it unkindly, just matter of fact.

I sigh, “Look, you’re a nice guy, and I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding someone else. This was only ever sex, nothing more. No expectations. Just sex.”

He looks away for a moment before glancing back my way. “I’m well aware the roles have been reversed here. I’m acting like a girl. I just don’t normally do one-night stands, and I like you. I know we don’t know each other, but there’s just something about you I want to get to know better.”

He’s sweet; I’ll give him that. I can’t do this relationship thing, and even if I did, he’s not someone I could see myself with. Don’t get me wrong; he’s nice. There’s no denying that. Everything he’s stated reinforces my perception that he’s a good guy. I would ruin and taint that sweetness in a heartbeat, and I couldn’t bear it. Unconsciously, pair of chocolate-brown eyes flash through my mind, followed quickly by the handsome face they belong to.

“I’m sorry. I really am. Call me a bitch, that’s what I am.”

He sighs, “You’re not a bitch, and I’m not going to call you that. I’m just sorry you feel that way. ” He smiles a small smile, “You’re a cool chick, Ashley, and hot as hell.” He says, shaking his head in memory.

“Thanks, Joe, and good luck. I’ve got to jet.”

I leave him sitting there and move to the door, opening it and walking away. The moment it’s shut I lean against the doorframe, breathing heavily. I’m surprised this even happened. I wasn’t expecting this turn of events, and the truth of the matter is I
am
a bitch. I just hurt a perfectly good guy. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m so messed up and damaged. I’m no good for anyone, not even the best pair of chocolate-brown eyes I’ve seen, especially not him.

All of a sudden, the apartment door across the hall opens, and out walks the one person I was just thinking about. I’m sure my mouth resembles a frog trying to catch a fly; no doubt the shock is plastered across my face. Here I stand, with just a cami and jeans on, holding my shirt. I know what this looks like, and I feel my cheeks get hot.

Zeke…

Great, now I’m embarrassed.

“Ashley? Are you okay?”

I clear my throat and stutter a little, “Yeah, I’m fine. Do you live here?”

He looks me up and down, noticing my frazzled hair and the fact I’m holding my shirt in my hands. I’m glancing left and right, anywhere but at him.

“Ashley…”

He says my name with such reverence I can’t avoid his gaze anymore. When I finally meet his eyes, there’s a question in them. But before I can say anything, he puts two and two together.

“So, you know Joe? He’s a nice guy.”

My embarrassment reaches an all-time high. I watch Zeke watch me. He looks good. His converse, dark jeans and navy blue tee shirt. His hands are in his front pockets and he’s rocking back and forth, clearly uncomfortable.

Nervous, I force myself to stop chewing on my lips and respond, looking anywhere but at him. I don’t want to see the disappointment, or judgment.

“I just met Joe tonight.”

“Ah, well, I won’t keep you, then. I’ll see you in class next week. Have a good rest of your night.”

I finally glance back at him. I don’t see any of the things I was expecting, only a tinge of sadness.

“Alright, see you next week.”