2 am.

This would be the last time I would let B talk me into going out. Once again, I was all alone at a table that was littered with drinks. I was slowly sipping on my Black Ice, my other hand holding on to a shisha pipe. B had run off to a different corner of the club with a pretty guy in a fur coat. If our previous outings were anything to go by, they would be grinding and biting each other’s necks by now. I wasn’t that jealous. Maybe a little. I was mostly pissed. Once again, I would be stuck on bag duty and guarding our drinks while I could be curled up in bed reading something or watching something. The DJ wasn’t helping matters. He kept switching from a dope track to a bad one. As soon as I felt the urge to stand up and dance, he would quell that urge by playing a bongo song or worse, a gospel song. No one wants to listen to a gospel song at the club!

The Club was filling up. As usual, there were more gay guys than girls. I liked watching them mingling. They were so free, so happy. They reminded me of clothes on a line, freely swinging in the wind. I wondered how many of them were truly out. A tap on my back averted my glance. It was the cute waitress. After I assured her that I was fine, she sashayed to a different table. I wondered if she got hit on a lot. How would she react if I tried to hit on her? No. She has probably seen and heard it all. I thought. I went back to surveying the crowd. There were two girls that were getting handsy three tables from mine, three guys dancing together, a girl dancing by herself and her.

She was sited at a table across mine and was staring directly at me. Thinking she was probably looking at someone else, I checked my left and my right and behind . It seemed very likely that it was me she was staring at. I looked back at her. She was smiling now. I should have probably just looked away and resumed my drinking but I couldn’t. I was transfixed. She tipped her head to the left, put her drink down, and leaned in. Was she trying to see me better? Well, two could be play. I grabbed my glasses from my clutch, put them on and stared right back at her. My God. She was stunning. She threw her head back, in laughter I assumed, winked then looked away.

I was disappointed. I don’t know where I wanted it to go but part of me had hoped that she would come over to my table or something. Shrugging it off, I went back to my people watching. I tried hard not to look over to where she was. I kept feeling her eyes on me and ignoring her was proving to be an insurmountable task. This was all B’s fault. If he had stayed at our table instead of gallivanting around, I wouldn’t be sitting here by myself being awkward and shit. The DJ faded out whatever it was that was playing and faded in the Daniella Whine beats. Please play the remix. Please play the remix. I whispered a silent prayer. And he did! In an instant, I was up and in twerk position.

Now, I am not a good dancer, I am only passable. Dancing in public is not something I am given to. Usually, it takes a few bottles of Black Ice and maybe one or two shots of tequila. B had made us take the ceremonious two shots when we came in the Club so I had enough courage to actually dance. Still holding on to the Shisha pipe, I arched my back and shook what my mama gave me and more. By the time Elephant man’s verse came on, I was well in, dropping down, flipping imaginary hair and bringing it up slow. I didn’t feel her coming up behind me. I just felt a hand on my left hand, putting the shisha pipe down and another encircling my waist. I knew it was her. But I turned to look just in case.

She was so much prettier up close. Her faux locks fell on the left side of her face, framing it so beautifully. She looked like she had made extra effort to appear boyish. I filed that observation to ask her about it later. Now, I was counting my blessings and hoping that my dancing skills would be satisfactory. Having placed the shisha down, her left hand joined her right at my waist and pulled me in for a hug of sorts. Just as I was getting ready to hug her, she turned me around and started dancing.

As I got into it, I started praying fervently that the DJ wouldn’t play a gospel song. The universe heard me and Konshens’ guttural voice enveloped us. If I was dancing before, now I was really and truly dancing. I was so aware of every movement her body made. When her fingers dug deeper into my waist, I felt it everywhere.  She was such a good dancer. She made use of every opportunity to bring our bodies closer than they were. I started worrying that I wouldn’t be able to keep up. As the DJ transitioned to a slower song, I thought she would let go. Instead, she pulled me closer to her. I sunk into her as she started exhaling on my neck. It shouldn’t have done anything to me. In fact in my sexual history, breathing on my neck hadn’t accomplished anything. This was different. My insides quivered and my outside trembled. Taking that as permission, she sunk her teeth into my neck. I bucked, all but screaming. Taking a deep breath, I pulled away from her and made to sit down. I motioned to the sit next to me.

“Do you go about biting people’s necks in clubs?”

She leaned in, smiling and I inhaled her chocolatey scent. The only good thing about clubs is the closeness they force for conversations. She grabbed my head and I truly thought she was going to kiss me. Instead she whispered in my ear.

“You were asking for it.”

I cursed. She laughed. A throaty laugh that made me squirm on my seat. Just then, my phone started vibrating. She raised one eyebrow when she saw that it was an alarm.

“I wanted to leave at 2”. I explained.

“Are you?”

“No.” I said as I closed the alarm the tab.


Just a random story to light up your Friday. Hope you like it. 🙂




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