A chill creeps up my back and I can feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck as goosebumps spread across my skin. I can’t help feeling like someone is watching me, which isn’t unexpected given where I am, but this feels different. It feels… intense.
I slowly scan the club until I lock with a pair of eyes across the room that have me glued to the spot. I’ve never seen eyes like these in my whole entire life!
Eyes piercing silver: the colour of liquid mercury, stare at me like they can see right through me. My stomach tightens and my heart flips as I gradually take in the owner's appearance. Splayed out on a couch across the room is a man whose frame is enough to emasculate every man in the club if not the whole world. His gargantuan muscular frame is imposing, and I feel like the couch he’s on should be straining just to have him seated on top of it. He has long thick white hair, the colour of the purest snow, falling down his back like a majestic mane. His bronze skin even from here looks smooth as silk. He has a beard and moustache as pure white as his hair, all of which compliment his eyes which are standing out like two bright gems behind a simple black eye mask. It’s so understated that it does little to obscure him. So much of him stands out that the mask actually seems to draw more attention to him. He’s wearing an expensive-looking black suit jacket that's straining against God-like muscles, and just as I think that, a smirk creeps up his face making me shiver. Underneath his jacket is just a simple fitted black button-down shirt with most of the buttons left undone exposing his smooth gigantic pecks to my perverted eyes. My eyes dip lower taking in his tight black slacks and black dress shoes and it takes all my self-control not to steal a peak at the goods.
A guy who is that ripped is either overcompensating for something or… he just wants the rest of him to match up to what he was born with, and I’m unsure which, but I know which one I’m hoping for. Before my thoughts can spiral out of control in the cesspool that is my depraved mind, I notice the people next to him. To his left is someone who I can only tell has dark espresso-like skin because of the colour of their hands, which are currently very busy. Their face is hidden behind the most incredible mask I’ve ever seen. It’s black metal, shaped like a shield but contoured to their face and decorated with incredible metal floral work that has me in awe. It’s like some medieval-inspired avant-garde mask that should be on a podium at an art gallery somewhere.
They have long fire-red dreadlocks, just as unnatural in colour as the other guy’s white hair. I don’t know who does their wigs, but Derrick should hire them. The redhead looks as large in stature as the other one but is wearing a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and feathered black bowtie. The outfit is pretty tame for such an event except for those shoes! Damn, I need to get me a pair like that. Platform leather high heels with red 9” heels and backing layered with black straps up to the ankle. They scream ‘Come fuck me’, and I guess some people got the message. Sitting to the redhead’s right is an ebony enchantress in a red satin side slit bodycon dress, with her head thrown back in ecstasy as the redhead plays with her pussy. Meanwhile, to the left is a lean little twink with creamy skin and dark black curls, clinging to the redhead's arm as they stroke his dick for all to see. The display doesn’t at all surprise me given the event we’re attending, but what does surprise me is the Zeus-looking guy beside them who hasn’t taken his eyes off me this entire time. He seems completely oblivious to what is going on beside him while his eyes stay trained on me and it’s causing something dormant to awaken from deep in my gut.
As I continue to look on, a group of people walk by, and as soon as they pass, I stand up straight in bewilderment to find the man with silver eyes has completely disappeared. I look around frantically, wondering where the hell he went. I’m confused as to how he disappeared so fast and almost start to question if I saw him at all. I take a step back to try and look around for him only to feel my back collide with something hard like cement.
Large firm hands grip my upper arms, and my knees almost give way from the indescribable burning feeling that explodes through my body. It’s not like putting your hand on a hot stove, it’s not painful – far from it. It’s the most erotic feeling I’ve ever felt in my life, like the ultimate orgasm after hours of edging. I look back, my head slowly tilting up to find the face that belongs to these hands, and my heart begins to pound erratically when I look up to see those same piercing silver eyes staring down at me with unfathomable reverence. Sweet fucking Jesus, he’s massive! He has to be 7’9” and built like a Sherman Tank. My breathing hitches, and part of me wonders how he got to me so fast, but the other part doesn’t care. My whole body is singing from his touch and yet, is put at ease by it at the same time. His hand ever so softly glides up my arm like he’s touching the finest China, eliciting a shiver from me as my eyes roll back. His fingers slowly trail across my shoulder an
As I appear in front of the familiar, large beachfront estate I remove my mask and discard it on the ground. I stare up at the pristine white compound as the sounds of the beach waves echo against the rustling of lush palm trees. I sense two celestial bodies inside, but it’s only one I care about. As I storm towards the double doors, that sweet scent of bubble gum and cream sickle continues to swirl around my brain, consuming every fibre of my being. My hands still burn like fire from her touch, sending pleasure coursing through this vessel I call a body. My heart continues to beat erratically and as I effortlessly slam my hands against the doors, blowing them to smithereens, it’s not the sound of shattering wood that I hear. No, it’s the sound of her sweet orgasmic moans as she came on my fingers. I can still feel the way her tight pussy quivered and clenched around them, so tight as if to hold me there and continue to bring her pleasure, and I wanted to. Fuck, how I wanted to. I m
The pain of my skull being ripped apart by the jaws of life is the first thing I feel as I start to open my eyes. I clutch my head as if the action will somehow dull the agony – not that it ever has. However, this is by far the worst migraine I’ve ever had. I slowly roll over, and through squinted eyes pick the small bottle of painkillers off my nightstand. I pop open the cap with my teeth and spit it across the room as I pour a couple of pills into my mouth. I grab my water bottle and skull the water, downing the pills in the process. With languid movements, I pull myself out of bed, drag myself downstairs, and lay myself down on the couch directly under the sunlight streaming through my loft window. Almost immediately I can feel the simultaneous expanding and crushing sensations waring in my skull slowly begin to dissipate. I know it doesn’t make any sense. All forms of light are meant to be triggering and known to worsen migraines. I can’t tell you why natural light eases mine; it
I lean back in my chair just as the waitress walks over and places what I can only describe as a plate of grass in front of Derrick who smiles and thanks her. “What can I get you to eat or drink?” she asks me, but my eyes are focused on the monstrosity in front of Derrick. “What is that?” I ask him. “My lunch?” “Yes, but what IS it?” I ask in horror. “It’s s salad,” he asks in bewilderment. “No, no, no. That is not a salad. That is food for sheep and people who do yoga, and you are neither a sheep nor someone who does yoga.” I turn my attention to the waitress, “I will have the eggs benedict with extra bacon on the side, and he will have the same,” I instruct with a broad smile. “Umm…” she drawls hesitantly, probably thinking I’m a controlling bitch. “I will also give you a thirty-dollar tip.” “Two eggs benedict with extra bacon coming right up,” she says brightly before dashing downstairs to the kitchen. “Gabriella,” Derrick sighs. “Don’t go saying my name with that exaspe
The lights are flashing, the music is pumping, the drinks are flowing, and I’m drowning in tips. Let’s be real, how many people can say they have a job that is genuinely fun and exciting? I know it’s a pretty common practice for people to hate and complain about their jobs, but I love mine. I get to spend paid time somewhere that’s like a second home to me, surrounded by all my friends and for the most part, really nice patrons. I’m either working behind the bar, or I’m up on stage dancing like there’s no tomorrow and gracing the crowd with the voice nature gave me. I couldn’t imagine being stuck behind a desk, or worse, working retail. I shudder at the thought. The music transitions into playing that summer banger from a few years back Rush by Troye Sivan and almost immediately I see several shirts come off on the dancefloor. My eyes lock with Cassandra who is working behind the bar with me, as we begin to sing and dance along while we serve the customers. “Can I get two Singapore
I freeze with my hand on the door handle as every libidinous thought quickly exits my brain. I slowly turn to face my former seducer with distrustful eyes. “What did you just call me?” I ask. He quirks a bushy but sculpted brow, “Gabriella?” “How the hell do you know my name?” I ask accusingly as the redhead looks between us in amusement, taking a shot of tequila and downing it like it was water. “I asked around,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “Bullshit,” I clap back, crossing my arms over my chest. The look of shock on this man’s face is as if no one has ever dared speak back to him. Well, he’s in for a rude awakening. I don’t care if he has the body of a 28-year-old Adonis with hair whiter than pure amphetamines. “Why exactly do you think that’s bullshit?” he asks with genuine curiosity. “Because we have a code here, no one on staff refers to anyone by their real name and we sure as fuck don’t go handing out each other’s personal and private information to strangers. It’s a safety
“Talk. Okay, sure,” I say, taking out my earbuds and placing them on my coffee table along with my bag. “You can talk about how the hell we are now in my apartment and how the fuck you know where I live?” I almost screech at him. “I believe you humans describe it as teleporting,” he says nonchalantly, but with a defensive crease in his eyes. “You humans? Oh, right, because you’re a God,” I mock. “I don’t appreciate the derision in your voice and I’m not the type of person to tolerate being mocked. You almost got yourself killed and had I not been watching you–” “I knew it! I KNEW you were watching me!” I exclaim, relieved to know that feeling I had all night wasn’t in my head. “And it’s a good thing I was, or your fragile form would have been a corpse on the sidewalk!” he booms with such ferocity I swear it makes the entire room shake. He takes a breath and composes himself, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” he apologises looking contrite. “I need a drink,” I say as
I have existed longer than anyone can even begin to comprehend. In that time I have witnessed the birth of galaxies and have even destroyed a few. I have power beyond one's wildest dreams and yet, standing inside that tiny loft, telling that curvaceous and fragile spitfire what I am and what she is to me, I’ve never felt more powerless and insignificant. She confounds me in ways no one ever has. I don’t even know her and yet I find myself already changing around her. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say she’s turning me into someone I used to be. Someone I thought died a long time ago. As I pour myself a large drink, I feel the air shift and I look up to see Ezillus standing bright-eyed in my living area. “So, how did everything go?” they ask with a shit-eating grin as they lazily sit down on my lapis circular sectional placing their feet up on my marble coffee table. I walk out from around the bar sipping my drink, “Get your feet off my table,” I bark, walking over and sitting on