Highschool Clichés

~Chapter 6~

^^Twerk Goddess is up!  a.k.a Brenna Wilson^^

WARNING: This chapter has mature content, read at your own risk... Enjoy.

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Drunk.

That's the only thing to describe me right now. After Amalia started her drunk, dirty dancing on the table, things got real crazy. For me anyway.

Brenna went off to dance on the main floor, dragging a flustered Everett with her, Naomi sat on the couch for a while then wondered off to who knows where, Seth seemed to vanish also and I ended up joining Amalia on the table, dancing and laughing our asses off. I think that was the result of me having three more Martini's and 2 shots of tequila, which, Naomi insisted I had, in other words, threatened.

If anyone would've told me I would end up dancing in a club having the time of my drunken life, with Amalia fucking Van-Kerr two weeks ago, I'm not sure if I would've laughed or cursed at the absurdity. Besides, I don't have to let my guard down around them entirely, I can have fun tonight and hate them tomorrow, right?

"Come on, let's go dance!" Amalia's manicured hand digs into my skin as she drags me off the table, nearly breaking my neck in the process, and out of the V.I.P section, to the very crowded dance floor on the main floor of the club. 'City Girls' by Chris Brown, Young Thug starts playing and I hold onto Amalia's hips, as she grinds her ass onto my lower half. I didn't care that I was dancing with the enemy and would more than likely, curse myself tomorrow morning. I was having fun at an all expense paid night out, courtesy of Queen bitch. Who am I to complain?

Amalia's hands looped around my neck and went into my already devilish hair, and my hands tighten on her hips. She spins around so quickly, I had to blink to make sure I'm not seeing doubles. "Come here," she whispers, her words slurring a little.

My drunk mind is highly confused and a bit sad as she leads me to a corner, away from the dance floor. She pushes my back to the wall, and before I could register what's happening, her lips are on mine. I stand there frozen for a second or two, before kissing her soft lips back. I could taste the tequila we had earlier on her tongue and strangely, I wanted more of it.

My hands find their way into her hair, gripping it tight and she let's out a small moan into my mouth. Am I really kissing Amalia Van-Kerr? Yes? No? Maybe I'm dreaming...

We break apart for air, and I look all over her face. Glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips pulled into a sexy smirk and devilish hair, had me gripping her waist and smashing our lips back together. Her small hands skim their way down my sides and dip under my dress, and I gasp when her fingers come in contact with my thong covered croch.

She breaks apart from my mouth, kissing her way up my neck to my ear, "Your so wet, Rave..." Was I really wet in a club for a girl? I moan when her fingers find my elongated clit, stroking slowly through my thong. I was burning, and it wasn't because I was in a club packed with people. I wanted the familiar joys of the famous O, and Amalia was taking her sweet time in giving me what I want.

"You want to cum, don't you?" She moved my thong to the side, "Answer me," her voice was soft but firm into my ear, and I groan when her fingers teased my opening, "Yes..." My words came out husky and breathy, like I've been running a mile. I didn't care that I was in a club where people, more than likely, can see me perched against the wall with Amalia's hands up my dress. I was damn horny and frustrated with everything.