Cupid's Angel

February 14th, 2017

At this very moment of her life, she'd give anything to be back home, comfortably snuggled under her warm blanket with an umpteenth number of packets of snacks littering on a countertop. Her social energy had depleted within minutes of seeing the jam-packed club her best friend insisted they attend, but she could only blame herself for her lack of thought. After all, they were at the most in demand club in the big city of Rogue Valley – Devil's Inn –-cute name.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave with me?" Her sister's high-pitched shouts tried to compete with the upbeat music in the background.

"It's okay, Christopher said he'd drop me home!" Moralys shouted in her ear.

"Okay, and where's Brittle?" she heard the sarcastic question, as she shifted her head around the dance floor to catch sight of her sister's friend.

"She's here somewhere. You can go ahead and enjoy yourself with your friends. I'll look for her and then head out" she stated, before pushing her sister towards the door.

Today, as Moralys put it, the day all lovers lose their ideals and fawn over something as sadistic as love - Valentine's Day. When her classmate initially invited her, she declined politely like every introvert would, however, when her best friend found out it was a Valentine's Day themed costume party, she couldn't keep her delusions to herself.

Brittle took it upon herself to cancel the already previously declined invitation, so here she stood, dressed as Cupid's little Angel.

Her glittered wings, shedding and disrupting party go-ers with every turn and shake, her one size too tight pink leather-based corset and matching pleated skirt did nothing to deviate the males' gaze, but she had to admit, the black gemstone encrusted knee-high heels did wonders for her legs. If it was up to her, she'd keep it simple with jeans, but unfortunately for her- No, was a foreign word for Brittle, a spoiled woman that always got her way.

What can one do when a five-foot-ten-woman barges into their room, drags them- literally- out of their bed, feet first, mind you and processed to then strip and show them, only to drive a thong straight up their ass? To say Moralys felt violated was an understatement to say the least, who would think- excluding herself and her sister, that such an innocent-looking face adorned with freckles would be so rudely intrusive and strong.

So here she was, cladded like she was coming up on the stage to perform a pole dance, at an overpacked strip club surrounded by drunks, perverts, and her favourites… idiots.

"I am ninty- no, a hundred and ten percent sure, that girl is half naked somewhere under a man" She mused to herself when she thought of her friend.

Though she was a self-proclaimed alcoholic, Moralys was not the partying type, she had a strong dislike for human interactions and preferred being drunk at home in the confinement of her bedroom walls. She was plain and simple, and quite enjoyed her own company. She viewed herself as nothing more than an ordinary girl, dealt a bad pair of cards at birth. She neither blamed the universe nor herself and vowed to live a simple life, the best she could.

Her thought process was interrupted when she felt someone grinding behind her, the harsh smell of alcohol, tobacco and raging perspiration overwhelmed her sense of smell, causing her gag reflex to activate. She turned to look down at the brunette who was mindlessly grinding on her. With a swift bend of her back, she whispered in the girl's ear.

"As unfortunate as it may be, I like big dicks" she mused, as she watched the woman turn and watched her with stunned eyes before dancing away from her.

With a slight stumble from the dancing bodies, Moralys made her way to the bar to grab another of the fancy cocktails the bartender made- A Tropical Sunset- he called it. She knew nothing of the drink's contents. However, her taste buds flared in excitement when she was first introduced to the delicious mess. Grateful for her genetics, her height gave her an advantage over most people, making it easier for her to direct herself to her destination.

With haste she waved to the busy bartender, demanding his attention.

"Let me guess, a Tropical Sunset... for the fifth time" the bartender approached.

"Oh, my baby, how did you know? We must have been lovers in our past lives, you know me so well", she flirted.

The bartender smiled at her innocent flirting as he made her drink.

"Trust and believe me when I say, if we were lovers in our past life, you'd still be able to feel it even now" he winked and he slid the drink to her.

"And I know because you've gobbled down the same drink four times in a row" he cackled, handing her a straw, as he added an extra shot of tequila to her cocktail.

"Oh, baby you spoil me" she giggled with a broad smile upon seeing the pink syrup swirled at the top of her Ombre orange drink and immediately attached her mouth to the straw to satisfy her taste buds.

As the minutes rolled by, she had yet to locate her best friend or her boyfriend since their arrival, her social battery was depleted, and she was eager to go home. As she conveyed her thoughts, she caught a glimpse of Brittle as she was led up a flight of stairs by her type- Tall, Tatted and Handsome. A knowing smile spread across her face as she watched on.

They each had their way of coping with their past. Brittle's, however, were pleasures of the flesh, so it came as no surprise she was always entangled in a stranger, returning home at random hours of the morning.

With a spin of the stool, Moralys turned to face the crowded dance floor, hoping to see the flaming, red hair of her boyfriend- Christopher, a man she had met when they first arrived in town a year ago and used to help her quench her desires, something rarely accomplished, but he kept the men away, and that to her was a plus.

She had yet to find a man that completely sated her every desire, more times than she wished, she'd always be left disappointed and irate. However, that never stopped her from wanting to be ravaged, as her imagination wondered, her desire flared, and she needed to distract herself until she found Christopher. With one last suckle of the straw, she made her way to the washroom.

As she drew near, the full view of the line was visible and she mentally sighed and her pelvis clenched and reminded her of her purpose.

"Is a celebrity here?" she questioned the girl before her.

"Can't you read? It does say washroom at the top" she answered, rolling her eyes before turning around.

"Can you not be a bitch" she mocked her.

As her inner thighs tightened, a groan left her lips as she meekly made her way to the male's washroom, as discreetly and quickly as possible, with a buzzing mind and erupting bladder, she barged into the surprisingly empty stalls and released her nerves.

"Oh, thank you God" she sighed aloud as her bladder was no longer strained. With great satisfaction, she flushed and happily danced out and washed her hands, failing to notice the man standing behind her.

A gasp left her lips as her eyes connected with those of a grey storm brewing through the mirror. However, the man remained unmoved.

She turned and marvelled at the man before her. Tracing her eyes thoroughly at his well-built form, her once quelled desires flared again as she met the dark abyss that were his eyes, her tongue jotting out on her own, moistening her lips.