As I weaved my way through the people, I had clocked him. Mostly his eyes, which had bored their way through me, full of lust. But he was the security guard, so I didn’t pursue it.
I felt awesome – tight jeans, fly red patent leather high-tops, off-the shoulder kind of vibe. And loud house music.
I need to dance, so just hit a corner and zoned out – body moving to the steady thump. Hadn’t really felt a vibe from anyone else in the club, but it was cool.
Occasionally, he was slither past, looking me all the way up and down, I returned the favour, fearless because I figured him out of reach.
Security guards don’t get to touch the clientele, do they?
I kept dancing, took a break upstairs, outside for some air, and considered leaving. In my peripheral vision, I saw him casually check the crowd outside. I acted like I hadn’t seen him. He acted like he wasn’t looking for me.
But round two on the dance floor was charged. I sought him out a couple of times, made sure I didn’t really let him pass easily as he was doing his rounds through the crowd.
Then he disappeared.
The music was getting a bit shit. It was 4am by this stage, so i grab my things and head up to leave. I was like – eh, he’s the security guard, he’s gonna be hands-off.
As I’m leaving, he meets me on the stairs. All up close,
‘you’re not leaving are you?’
My breath stopped my rhythm for half a second, while I paid extra attention to getting words out of my mouth.
well, i was going to, but..
‘Stay. I finish at 5.’
He finishes 15 mins early and all the security staff are chipper – wishing him well and giving him a hard time for leaving early.
I grab my jacket and bag from my scooter and double lock it, leaving it outside the club.
I jump in his car and drive to his place. Music loud, we sing along to Tosh, I’m nervous as shit,
‘girl, you’re sitting in a stranger’s car, in a city you don’t even live in and you’re about the fuck the shit out of a security guard’
‘yeah, i know’
That’s my head.
He’s got an hour before he has to leave for his next job.
We get to his place and it’s bare. He’s already made excuses about recent ex, blah, blah, blah. I promise him that I don’t care. It sounds callous, but I don’t.
We get in the room and he jumps on my shirt – up, over the head, and suddenly we’re both naked and on top of the cover – leopard-print fleece thing. The TV is on, but the sound is off – for light only.
We have a brief squabble about the fucking condom – he can’t find one and starts the pleading for without. I’m not even kidding.
But he gets one and goddamn it’s good. He fucks hard and he holds out. And it’s not vanilla. I ride him for a bit, then he flips me over a thousand ways, my leg is somehow up in the air and he’s seriously going for it. It’s blowing my whole mind. I’m loud as hell and we’re gone.
Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. And it’s good. I’m exhausted and flushed.
We jump up, have a shower together – he’s hard again already, hands all over me, soaping each other, but mindful of the time.
Jump in the car, speed down the motorway, asking slightly deeper questions of each other in the 10 minute trip. He drops me next to my scooter, we kiss deeply and he drives off.
I ride home, slightly sore, but smug at having been properly got.