The Baby Stand (Completed)

Chapter Four

(A/N: K. We've Reached the point where there is SEX. Before the Sex scene starts, I'll give you guys a heads up. If you don't read the sex scene, there will be a chapter after this one titled "Chapter Four Version 2.0".)

Chapter Four

"Sure. I'd love too."

I took his hand and we went out onto the dance floor. We danced through a lot of songs, grinding onto each other as the night progressed.

Clyde and I went back to the bar for another drink.

"So what went wrong between you and my ugly fag boss today anyway?" I asked him, sipping on my 4th glass of the Long Island iced tea.

"I just didn't like his attitude. He was a complete douche to you, and I don't work with douchebags. Especially not balding ones with bad hygiene," He replied, downing his Neat Whiskey.

"Tell me about it. Each time he's near me I have to hold my breath. And he's near me a lot. I'm surprised I haven't passed out," I reply. He chuckles, shaking his head and ordering another neat whiskey.

Honestly, I'm surprising myself tonight. Right now I'd usually be dancing on top of the bar, with my shoes off using some guy as a pole.

Or I'd be in a karaoke bar, singing my lungs out to the latest Taylor Swift single.

I'm a crazy, reckless drunk. Which is why I usually don't go clubbing, preferring to stay inside and drink my Vodka while binge watching Gossip Girl on Netflix.

"What's your name?" Clyde asks me, staring into the depths of my soul.

Stila. Oops, I didn't say that out loud. But I do laugh out loud. "St-Stila Banks," I manage to croak out.

He nods and continues to stare at me. We sit there for another minute, him continuing to stare at me. I avoid his gaze and look anywhere but at him.

It gets too awkward so I try making some conversation.

"Wanna know something funny?" I say, looking over at him and giggling as he takes a gulp of the whiskey.

"Sure, what's funny?" He asks after he's swallowed and has done the weird clench face thing every guy does when they drink whiskey.

"How I'm drunk and I haven't begun to sing Taylor Swift yet," I reply, laughing so hard I fall off the chair.

I was wondering when my inner drunk girl would come out, apparently she wanted to now.

"C'mon, let's go dance some," I say. He obliges, downing the rest of his whiskey while I do the same with my drink.

(A/N: THIS IS WHERE THY SEX STARTS. NOT INTENDED FOR READERS WHO ARE UNDER THE AGE OF SEXUAL READING. DO NOT READ IF SEX SCARES YOU. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SCARED OF SEX. SKIP TO CHAPTER 4 VERSION 2.0 TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THY SEX)

We get to the dance floor, and immediately I wrap my arms around his neck and grind my pelvis against his leg.

Hearing the song "Pillow Talk" come on just made me hornier.

".... bed all day, bed all day, Fucking you and fighting on, it's our paradise, and it's our war zone..." I sang into Clyde's ear along with the music.

I leaned back to see his reaction and he hungrily looked at my lips. He looked into my eyes, and then once again looked at my lips.

He eagerly pushed his mouth onto mine, his soft lips starting out slow and beginning to get aggressive.

We kissed passionately, while Clyde took his hand and began stroking my breasts, while his other hand was on my hip, leaning me towards him. His hand went lower and he grabbed my butt and squeezed, while at the same time squeezing one of my breasts.