Devil Tongue

"Jason Nelson is such a, such a—" I swear I was trying to force out anger. 

I even had my fists balled up on my sides whenever I managed to gather some. However, the scene I just ran from came crashing down on me all over again. The waterworks and heartbreak weren't far behind. 

Three fucking years. He was supposed to be my forever love. We were going to beat the odds. Hell, I'm naïve. Ignorance really was bliss. I thought we were happy. 

"He said he was going to introduce me to his father soon. Dating for three years and I have never even met his family," I said to the stranger across from me with a sniffle, gulping down more wine directly from the bottle, then slamming it down on the table. "Shit. Lena is going to kill me," I said, grabbing onto my blind date's arm. "I'm fucking this up, aren't I?"

More texts from Lena gave me the scoop on my blind date. Supposedly he was a friend of a friend of mom's from church, so she couldn't get out of it. Maybe he'd be desperate and look past my fat ass and rail my cunt good and hard anyway. 

Yeah right. Fat chance. Nevertheless, here I was. It was better than moping around in my car all night. I didn't even know where I was sleeping tonight. Anywhere but home. All my friends were buried under books, studying for exams. I didn't want to intrude. 

Nothing but solid, hard, mass under my fingers as I grabbed onto my date's arm. Lena's would have been blind date was sex on legs. He looked like he walked straight out of one of my sister's trashy romance novels. Dressed immaculately from head to toe, smart casual and yet everything on him screamed money. 

The math wasn't mathing. Since when do firemen know how to dress? Better yet, how the fuck did he afford his wardrobe? 

"You're super hot for a fireman too," I said with a giggle, continuing my thoughts out loud without meaning to.

Catching myself laughing after the night I had made me miserable all over again.

Determined to shake it off, I got up and placed my chair next to his. When he said nothing about this development, my cheeks heated up as I laid my head down on his shoulder, then burst back into tears. 

"He just didn't want me, Tom. Tim? Whoever you are," I said, making a grab for the bottle again while my chest tightened. "Pearly, I can explain. She's a hooker Jason said. Doesn't he get that that's worse? So any old pussy will do. Just not mine?"

"Clearly there's been something of a misunderstanding, angel. Do I look like a fireman? Honey, this is Armani. That's a one hundred thousand dollar bottle of wine. Get your shit together. You're embarrassing," said my blind date, speaking for the first time in an hour.

I blinked up at him through tear filled eyes, but only leaned into his muscular shoulder harder. 

"You're not my blind date? Of course you are. Did my fat ass just make you realise you're gay?" I rambled, looking him up and down again, because fuck he was too well dressed for a straight man. "Don't sweat it. You're right. I'm embarrassing, It's me, isn't it, McGee? No man wants huge thighs, saggy arms, pendulous tits, a big butt and tummy at the age of twenty one. Jason would rather fuck an Asian whore than my fat pussy—"

Just like that, the man turned towards me. He shoved his fingers through my ruffled curls, held my head in place and stuck his tongue down my throat. Mid kiss, while I was moaning and trying to get my bearings, the fireman helped me out of my seat and onto his lap. My toes curled instantly as his tongue lashed punishingly against mine. 

Shy and reserved my whole life, owing in large part to my big body, I never hit on men. Never made bold moves. I found myself re-examining my final year of high school. Jason likely made the stupid bet because he needed someone to copy off so his dumb ass could pass.

Those were the longest six months of my life. How did I convince myself I had been happy? It was pure torture. The jokes stopped, at least to my face. People got more creative. They started whispering behind my back and giggling behind their hands. Then swearing up and down they weren't talking about me. 

Jason always brushed it off. We were allowed to be seen together, but our interactions were minimal. Sometimes he all but ignored me to flirt with other women in front of me for hours at parties. He only recalled my existence when it was time to leave. Looking back, he was probably fucking around on me left and right.

On some level, deep down, I knew all this. Still, I let it go, because at least I finally had a boyfriend. At least he was nice enough when we were alone. 

Now as I sat there in this perfect stranger's lap, having my face sucked on in public, I couldn't help but question how nice Jason was to me after all. The man I was with knew me less than two hours, but his dick was poking at my thighs while he clung to my waist, his other hand groping my breast. 

"Stupid woman. You're not embarrassing because of your sexy curves. You're embarrassing because you think you're the problem instead of the sad sack of shit that could have fucked you for three years and didn't," he said, pulling away somewhat, touching his thumb to my lower lip. "Fucking a whore's overused cunt instead of a goddess is just sad. It's his loss. What the fuck are you crying about?" 

"You're n-not a fireman?" was all I could manage to squeak out, fidgeting about, worrying about being too heavy for this near stranger.

He had the face of a god, but owned a devil tongue that made me all hot and bothered

. What else could that tongue do to a girl?