She's Called Summer (A Beau Brooks Love Story)

Chapter Three

Just gonna warn you now. Shit's gonna get R rated now. Think the quick and dirty! BTW - PLEASE COMMENT WITH ANY SUGGESTIONS FOR THIS STORY! Byes!!! :)

I pulled at the ends of my dress, examining myself in the mirror. I was wearing daring red dress with a sweetheart neckline, which clung to my body making me appear curvy, tall and skinny.

I flicked my hair at different angle not sure how to sort it out, before finally just letting the curls flow naturally with side partnering on my left. I smiled, my white teeth a sparkling contrast against the rogue red of my lipstick.

I walked over to my desk, shoving my iPod into the docking station, as it filled the room with Benjamin Francis Leftwich's, Atlas Hands, as I pranced around my room grabbing a few essential, such as cash, debit card, keys, and phone shoving it into my pocket - a bag would be pointless, I would hate to have a carry it around with me.

I quickly pulled on the denim jacket, and my studded Jeffery Campbell shoes which made me appear ridiculous tall, before taking a quick selfie in the mirror, defiantly a scrapbook keeper - I looked hot!

I quickly arrived at the party, with a few wolf whistles, and the a red plastic cup of alcohol was automatically shoved into my hand. And the drinking games began, along with flirtatious talks with pretty much every guy who came up to me - whether they were single or not!

Soon, I was out of my head, I managed to recognise Skip waving at me but I never manage to talk to him since I was dancing and drinking heavily, grinding against people.

Soon, an arm wrapped around my waist, whispering into my ear. "Enjoying the party?"

I turned to reveal the host himself, Jake Crawley. "Yeah." I replied, dancing against him, as he lowered both his hand grabbing my arse hard. "My drinks running low." I slurredto him.

He smiled. "I'll go top it up for you." He replies, taking the drinking from my hand, as I staggered towards the edge of the dance mob, and toward the make-shift ,bar with him, my feet tingling and my head throbbing.

I was drunk.

I swayed my hips feeling the rhythm of the music, my hand flowing freely in the air, along with the rest of my body. Things began rushing through my head; another drink, needles, a stinging sensation in my mouth, bright lights, a hand holding me, and a poisonous toxic smell in the air.

Soon, I was grinning once more against someone, the end of my dress rising higher and higher, as a hand came lower and lower on my body. I felt an arm grip me tightly, as I staggered through the crowd following the person, my head throbbing as I past a kaleidoscope of colours.

Quickly, I find myself kissing him, we begin quite gently, our lip just brushing, only a hint of breath from him to me. I groaned, bitting my lip with his tongue allowing it to slowly enter my mouth. We kiss for minutes, pressing our bodies closer and closer together, leaning into each other. I peak my eyes open to see wether or not he's enjoying it, and he most definitely is. I can tell as I grind myself closer to him, feeling how hard he wants me through my dress, He begins making a small moaning noise from the back of this throat.

"Come. Upstairs." He damaned, leading me up the stairs.

We lace our fingers together, and in that moment, I fell everything rushing past at once. I felt alive, my. No, our heart were racing together as one.

"Let me do that." He offers guesting to my clothes I was still wearing - though I haven't quite managed to see face as my mind is still clouded from the ridiculous amount of alcohol within me. His fingers are quick to undress me, as he pulls the skin tight dress over my head, letting it fall to the floor, also taking care to admire my body, left in the black lace bra and knickers.

I take my bra off slowly, as he looks like he wants to devore every part of me. Quickly, he does, and begins sucking and bitting at my nipples making me moan in pleasure. I'm soaking wet inside and moan louder every time he thrusts his fingers inside of me.

We start to kiss once more, slowly at first, his fingers lazily tracing the lines of my bones. His kisses quickly become deeper, rough, his tongue thrusting quickly like he can't get enough. His hands are busy now, squezzing and rubbing everywhere again, but it feels good. His finger begin to flicker between my legs, and he lies down, moves my legs apart with his, and presses himself closer, his weight ontop of me.

I groaned louder as I see his erected penis, and he begins thrusting himself harder and faster into me, edging closer and closer to my g-spot reaching my climax.

And that's as much as I'll ever remember from that night. Sex with a stranger. Yeah? Can I use yolo as an excuse for that?