One Night Stand (by Peach)

              It’s another unadulterated boring night in your ‘life’ - the term is used loosely as all you do these days is lie in bed trying to get over your most recent harsh break up. Your phone has been ringing and bleeping constantly recently and much as you claim to be irritated by it, you’re secretly pleased that people actually care enough to call. You’re having a whinging txt conversation with your best friend when suddenly a text message flashes up from an unknown number. ‘Hope were still ok 4 2nite babe ill be a bit late wait 4 me pls love jdbxxx’. Intriguing. You smile. And JDB? Hmmm, pour quoi, do those initials ring a bell? However the thought leaves you and you get back to your navel gazing rubbish. The number comes up again, a while later. ‘Sorry I’m so late jump in a taxi meet me at (insert name of small intimate bar) jdbxxx’.  Now you’re more than curious. Obviously its a male as females are never so disorganised as to (a) be late in the first place or (b) arrange these important matters by a method as easy to f**k up as text messaging, plus you are getting bored of self obsessing and you need some alcohol. You get up glance in the mirror; pile on the make up as you recoil in horror and thank god for bleached blonde crops, which look fine even when messy. Its not that you actually expect to meet the guy, but obviously he’s going to be alone (…his msgs never reached their destination) and plus you’ve been meaning to check out that particular bar. (Ok so I can't actually come up with a plausible reason as to why you would but you just go, ok???)
         Dressed in a little black number you just lifted off your bedroom floor, you run out into the rainy dark night and hail a taxi. You arrive at the bar. It’s dark and smoky and practically empty apart from a couple talking quietly in the corner. You notice a lone figure sitting at the bar huddled over a drink. You order from the fine looking young bar man and glance sideways at the man sitting with a whiskey and a cigarette. He looks troubled as he smokes intently staring into his drink. You slide onto the stool next to him and knock back your double scotch no ice. You take out a cigarette and order another. “Just keep them coming”, you wink at the cute bar man. "Ah f**k it" you mutter as you scramble about in your bag. "Everything alright?" the guy next to you swivels round to face you. "No" you spit back just because you are a moody unfriendly bitch. "Ok" he turns again disinterested. "Actually" you say, "have you got a light?" he puts his hand in his pocket and flicks his lighter along the bar without even looking at you. *Ouch* You light your cigarette and place it back in front of him. "Thanks" you say more brightly this time. You down another double. "I am sorry. I’m just sulking, it was nothing personal." he shrugs and continues staring into his drink. You roll your eyes. "F**k, almost as bad as me" you giggle half to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you see a half smile flicker across his face. "Thanks for the light. Can I buy you a drink? I’m out celebrating newly found loneliness."
"Thanks." he pauses, looks at his watch. "Looks like I am too, she was meant to be here 30mins ago. And she’s never late, unlike me". Something niggles at the back of your mind... nope, cant remember, oh well, back to the conversation. "Shit, too bad. I’m sorry". No response. Lucky bitch got out while she could you think to yourself. “By the way I’m (insert name here)".
"I’m James", he turns round and smiles. For the first time you notice how unbelievably gorgeous he is and you grab onto the bar to steady yourself. The light is dim but his eyes are dark pools and his mouth is absolutely amazing. You stare at his lips for a few moments, unable to tear yourself away. Suddenly you notice silence. James is staring at you expectantly. "Eh sorry what did you say?"
“I was just asking about your job. Being polite. Also being boring it would appear. I’m sorry". He turns around. "Christ honey, you could rival me in the self pity stakes!" you say, knocking back another drink. Whoosh, the room wobbles slightly. "You don’t know the half of it", you begin, "my boyfriend, or should I say, my ex boyfriend…"
         Two hours and numerous double scotches and cigarettes later James grabs your arm. "Right lets get you a taxi". You grab onto his strong waist and he half pulls you to your feet. God he is gorgeous. You smile at him in your best attempt at a seductive smile. He looks away in barely disguised disgust. “Drunk women…"
"F**k you!" you scream at him. "I sit listening to your whining for two f**king hours and this is how you show your gratitude". He steers you out the door, it seems to take your comments a few moments to sink in. "MY whining??? F**k, I cant have got more than two words in throughout our entire so called conversation – and I use the term extremely loosely as conversations usually involve verbal exchanges between two people not a rambling monologue about your woe filled life". You shake your arm free and walk away in a drunken attempt at a dignified exit. *Ouch* even through the haze of alcohol those comments stung. Probably because they’re true. Tears stream down your cheeks. "Wait!" James shouts. Your in no state to get yourself home. "Hey come on I’m sorry" he pulls you towards a taxi. Unable to feign dignity any longer you fall into the back seat. "What’s your address?" James tells the driver your street name and you stare out of the window, still sobbing quietly. "Hey hey come on, I’m sorry" he smiles. "No really its true. I apologise. I offload on anyone who'll listen. I’m sorry".
"It’s quite alright. Actually, I enjoyed listening to you ramble, I spend so much time navel gazing it was quite refreshing to have someone who was more self obsessed than me". That smile. Christ he could possibly say anything and it’d be instantly forgiven. Without even noticing it you lick your own lips. James leans over and whispers in your ear, "Besides, self obsessed whining always sounds better coming from someone as attractive as you are. Silly girl. If you kept your mouth shut you’d be perfect". Too drunk to respond to that comment, besides your insecurities scream, it’s so true. Normally no-one would get away with those degrading comments, but tonight, your drunk, he’s attractive, he has his hand on your thigh. You can let it slide. He squeezes your leg as the cab comes to a halt. "I’d better make sure you get inside safely". He pays the driver and you lean on him as he guides you towards your front door…
         You stumble into the dark hall way, aware really only of the sound of a door being closed behind you and the feel of James warm breath on your neck as he nuzzles your shoulder with his arms wrapped round your waist. You feel your legs begin to give way as he pushes you against the wall and kisses you hard on the lips. He slides his hands underneath your dress and around your hips. The material rides upwards exposing your bare thighs and knickers. He pulls you towards him as he rests his whole body weight on you. The warmth and strength of him is amazingly erotic and his searching kisses and rough caresses are reminiscent of your days as a teenager. Momentarily repulsed you slide out from his embrace and stagger towards the kitchen. You hear his low cursing behind you as he follows. I need another drink you manage to think. You pull the bottle of vodka from the cabinet and a glass falls to the floor and smashes everywhere. You curse just as James turns you round roughly and slams you up against the wooden door. The jolt shocks you but his mouth is covering yours and he pushes your arms above your head with his left hand as he runs his right along the side of your body, tracing the line from your breasts to your hips. You can see his eyes burning into yours as he almost bruises your lips with his kiss. Still holding your arms where they are you feel his hand as he pushes your thighs apart and pulls your knees around his waist. His kiss is burning your lips and you can’t help but cry out, but only half in pain. He pushes his crotch right against yours and you feel the denim of his jeans grazing you through your cotton knickers. The pressure of his erection against the tip of your sex is tantalising and you moan again moving to meet him. He lets go of your arms and grabs your thighs hard thrusting against you through two layers of clothes. The sensations are making your breathing ragged and you start to kiss him back, pushing your tongue into his mouth whilst fumbling with his button fly. Pushing your hands away he unzips his jeans in one swift movement and you feel his pulsing erection against your bare inner thigh. Grazing your skin lightly with his teeth he buries his face in your neck and grunts as he pushes your knickers to one side and enters you with one almighty thrust. Feeling his breath heavy against your skin and his deep fast thrusts inside you, you moan quietly and dig your nails into the material of his jacket. Still grabbing your thighs he forces them even further apart and f**ks you harder than ever. You feel his breath quickening on your shoulder and he penetrates you deeper and faster. You grip him tightly and wrap your legs around his waist as the orgasm shudders the very core of your being. Then with one final thrust you feel James come inside you and hear his muffled cries as he empties himself deep inside you. For a moment he rests his head on your shoulder and you feel him trembling, and then he straightens up, turns and you hear him doing up his zip as he leaves you in the darkness. Still shaking you slide down the wall and collapse in a heap on the ground, in among the broken glass and still panting as you hear the front door slam.
         You wake up the next morning still lying against the wall. Christ, what a headache. Delicately you pick your self up off the floor and brush little bits of glass off your dress. Welcome to hangover hell. Stumbling into the bathroom you turn the shower on full force and pull off your clothes. You crouch in the bottom of the shower feeling the steam hitting off your back. Close your eyes and drift away. Oh… my… God… the events of the night come rushing back. That guy. You try to recall his name. Even what he looked likes, but no, not right now, too early. Head too fuzzy. You crawl out of the shower and into bed falling into a deep sleep. A few hours later and you are rudely awakened by the sound of a phone ringing. You search through piles of clothes until you find it. A friend checks that your dinner plans for tonight are still on. Reluctantly you agree. Meet at eight at some restaurant. Food. Oh Christ. You run into the bathroom and puke. You wake up again at seven feeling a lot better, dress quickly and call a taxi. You arrive twenty minutes late. Your friend (insert name of male friend) is going to be pissed off. Thank god you see him as soon as you walk in, avoiding an embarrassing search throughout the rather intimidating place. "It’s so good to see you smiling again. Sit down, order what ever you want, my treat to take your mind off that bastard!" (What? How the hell did he know about last night?) You catch yourself just in time. Of course he’s referring to your ex. Forcing a smile through the shock you begin some small talk. Male friend excuses himself and leaves. You pretend to search in your bag. It’s ridiculous, but when your sitting alone in a restaurant you always feel like everyone is staring at you. Air rushes past you as a couple are shown to a table. Still rummaging, the feeling intensifies, blood rushes to your face. Someone IS staring at you. You glance up: a woman sits a few metres away with her back to you. Over her shoulder a man’s eyes are boring into you. It takes a few seconds for the realisation to set in. Quickly you look away but your cheeks are absolutely on fire. It’s the guy from last night. The one who f**ked you and left without so much as a goodbye. What had you been thinking? But you glance up again. He’s still staring at you. Your breath catches. James, wasn’t it? He really is the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, let alone screwed. Still, what a bastard. You stare back. Fiery now and more than a little angry. Your male friend returns, you swear you saw a glimmer of a smile on James’ face just before he looked away.
     Your food arrives. Appetite gone completely now. The realisation of lasts nights events and the fact that James will not stop staring at you do not make for a good evening. Male friend comments on your distractedness. You figure you must be obviously flustered as James is openly smirking now. Christ, what a bastard! A gorgeous bastard. Dammit, aren’t they all? Now it’s your turn to smile. You pick at your food in silence. Revenge time. Looking up through downcast eyelashes you catch James’ eye and wink. Holding his gaze you sip your wine and run your tongue along the rim of the glass. You definitely have his attention now as he desperately tries to keep his gaze off you and on his dinner partner. His eyes keep slipping back you as you start giving it all you’ve got throwing your head back and laughing, kissing male friend, taking his hand and running it along your cheek, reapplying you lipstick. Male friend laughs bewildered - but glad to see some of your sparkle returning, you excuse yourself and make your way to the toilets with your hips swaying in the most provocative way you can manage. Detouring, of course, past James' table and catching his eye momentarily on the way past. You see a faint blush rise on his cheeks and laugh to yourself. In the bathroom you smile at the mirror, pleased with yourself and redo your makeup. Giving your lipstick one more coat you push the door open and walk headlong onto a rather solid figure. Your apologies are cut short as you recognise the eyes that are now only centimetres away from your own.... your heart skips a beat. James...

  To be continued...