Coffee & Cream

The Night At The Club

EMRYS

I remember the night I saw her at the club, she had come alone and she was drinking alone. I had seen her in some of my classes but I had never really seen her in this sort of settling. Her eyes were searching, she had a look of longing lingering in every glance. Her hand found the back of her neck a few times as she bit her lip.

The club lights flickered in time with the deep bass that pulsed through the air, my focus remained locked on her. She was completely unaware of the attention she commanded. The crowd around her faded into the background, a blur of movement and sound that couldn’t compete with the view she was.

Her dress, a flowing, ethereal piece that clung to her curves, shimmered in the low lights. The soft gray fabric draped down her body, parting daringly at her sides with every subtle move of her hips as she leaned against the counter. It was like the dress was barely there, teasing a suggestion of elegance and wildness all at once. The deep plunge in the front revealed a sliver of her smooth chocolate skin, and I could just make out the glint of a pendant resting against her chest, catching the light in fleeting flashes.

She raised her glass to her lips, slow, deliberate, like the moment was choreographed. Theglow from behind the bar lit her just enough for me to see her expression—calm, relaxed, like she owned every second of this night. The way the drink lingered at her lips for just a second too long told me she knew exactly how to command a room, without even trying.

I could feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck, an unmistakable mix of admiration and desire bubbling as I watched her. She didn’t notice me—or maybe she did, but was playing coy. Her eyes scanned the room, casually, she stared like she knew none of them mattered.

Her eyes flicked in my direction, it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through me. She looked like she was challenging me. It was just here, the drink in her hand, and that damn dress.

I had to go over there.

*******

I discreetly led Darcelle out of the busy nightclub and into a lavish hotel. We went into a room I booked, secluded and specifically designed for s****l exploration. I paid for the private s*x dungeon to ensure there wasn’t interruption by any of our peers. I didn’t want to be recognized especially since my girlfriend and I’s relationship was very public and a model example for some.

As we entered the dimly lit red room, I could see the excitement in Darcelle’s eyes, mixed with a hint of fear.

“I’ve not done this before…” she said meekly.

“What? Kink?” I asked.

She shook her head, “s*x… I haven’t had s*x before.”

“Oh…” I had responded, not sure why she had come along with me. I wondered if she planned on coming to destroy me with kisses?

“But, I want to have s*x. That was actually why I went to the club. I want to lose it tonight.” she had said as if reading my mind.

She had a striking exotic face, her chocolate-brown skin glowed, her figure petite with a curvy hourglass shape that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on. Her lips were pouty and she had high cheekbones and a defined nose. She was such a beauty.

I didn’t want to f**k a virgin, but I couldn’t let this gem slip through my fingers.

“Pick a safe word,” I said ready to mold her into my image.

Hesitantly, she chose, “raven.”

Her response piqued my interest but I pushed aside the thought because all I needed right now was her underneath me.

I went easy on her, our bodies melting together like candle wax under a flickering flame.

“I love the way your body responds to me.” I had told her.

She let out a sound of desire in response, her nails digging into my skin.

“The way you moan drives me crazy,” I whispered licking her exposed neck.

With her consent, I had cuffed her hands, biting and suckin on her skin and teased her with a suction device on her breasts to add an extra layer of pleasure as I teased and tormented her breasts. I had commanded that she called me “daddy” while I called her “ladybug.”

Her responses to me drove me wild, I couldn’t resist indulging in some breath play, choking her just enough to make her beg for release.

That night, though it had been her first time, I couldn’t help but think how skilled she was fort someone who was so new to s*x. I wondered how much more she could handle once she became more experienced. When we were done, sweat-drenched and panting, we left the hotel without saying a word. I had continued to watch her from afar without ever speaking to her again.

Not because, she had been bad at it, rather because she was just getting started. I didn’t want the complication of emotional attachment of being the one who f****d her first. I had been content with watching her have flings with other guys.

I had waited for the right moment to re-enter her life and take things further. When she had learned enough and was ready for me to show her what true s****l pleasure really looked like.

Isabelle pulled me out of my thoughts, “Is this a new sweater? Can I have it?” she asked holding up a sweater I had left on my sofa.

“Yeah, sure,” I responded. I had gotten two of them. Isabelle loved sweaters, so I usually got two of any I got if not I’d have none and she knew this and milked it. Not that I minded, I could afford it. Sometimes, she had us twinning in school.

It was a bit exhausting.

******

I didn’t expect to see Darcelle at my house for game night. She wasn’t the type to show up at these things, not with this crowd, especially not dressed like that. The second she walked in with Nathan at her side, her oversized black cargo pants slung low on her hips and a cropped tank topsshowing off just enough skin to make my pulse spike, I couldn’t help but scoff in amusement. She looked out of place but effortlessly hot, as if she couldn’t be bothered to care about fitting in with everyone else.

Nathan, on the other hand looked thrilled to be here, probably hyped to even be invited. I shot a side glance at Topher, and raised an eyebrow. “You invite the outcasts?” I asked sarcastically.

Topher grinned, leaning back casually against the wall. “Yeah, man. Thought I’d spice things up. Have some fun.”

I narrowed my eyes, playing with the rim of my glass. “What kind of fun?’

“You’ll see,” Topher answered cryptically, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. But I kept that thought to myself, my focus drifted back to Darcelle, who was now scanning the room, her expression unreadable. My eyes lingered on her for a moment too long—damn, how did she manage to look this flawless in everything she wore? Even now, in clothes that should have swallowed her whole, she was pulling it off like she owned the look. I imagined her wearing my hoodie, my sweatpants—hell, she’d pull those off perfectly too.

As if on cue, Isabelle, slid up beside me, her arms wrapping around my waist possessively. I leaned down and kissed her, my lips brushing hers even though my mind was elsewhere. I was thinking of taking Darcelle upstairs, getting her out of those baggy clothes, and seeing how perfectly she’d fit in my bed. When I looed up again, my gaze locked with Darcelle’s. She was staring straight at me, her lips twitching as if she was trying not to smile. I raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto my face, daring her to break first.

She did, biting her lip and glancing away quickly, pulling Nathan with her, as if she could disappear from my line of sight. I wondered if she had any naughty thought too. It was, after all, her first time in my house. Our usual meetings were in her place or some rented room at a hotel where no one knew us.

Isabelle tugged me closer, pulling me in for another kiss, her fingers trailing up my chest, I shut my eyes, savouring it briefly, clearing my mind of distractions. But it wasn’t long before Topher called out, breaking the silence, signaling that it was time to start the games.

The group split into different clusters, some huddling around video games, others wandering to the patio or just scattered about in the game room. But when Topher gathered everyone together and explained how the night’s main event would go down, I knew things were about to get interesting. A dare game. Pick a number, and whoever shares your number dares you. Simple enough. And if you refused? Three shots of vodka, no excuses.

The game went on for a while, people laughing, dares getting more and more ridiculous, and I wasn’t really paying attention until I heard Darcelle’s number called. I turned, noticing her at the same time Topher pulled out his matching number. I stared at my friend suspiciously, unsure what Topher was planning. Topher flashed me a grin, then turned to Darcelle.

“I dare you… to make out with Mal,” Topher said, barely containing his grin.

I clenched my jaw, irritation flaring in me. Mal, of all people? Everyone knew how painfully obvious Mal’s crush on Darcelle was. He was like a lovesick puppy around her, and now Topher was giving him what he wanted on a silver platter. It was some messed-up charity from one friend to another. I had half-expected Topher to dare her to kiss Nathan or something, which, now that he thought about it, didn’t sound like a bad idea. But Mal? The thought soured in his gut.

Darcelle didn’t even hesitate. She glanced at Mal, who was practically vibrating with excitement, and then dropped to her knees with a smirk. I watched intensely as she crawled across the floor toward Mal, moving with a slow, feline grace that had everyone in the room watching. She moved on all fours, deliberate, like a predator playing with its prey, her hips swaying just enough to make me shift in my seat.

Mal, on the other hand, looked like he was going to pass out. His face flushed red, his breathing ragged. The guy was practically choking on his excitement, barely able to keep himself together.

I rubbed my nose with my thumb, then took a swig from my bourbon, letting the liquor burn down my throat as I prepared to watch the scene unfold. I didn’t know if Darcelle was doing this intentionally, but her every movement was driving me insane. My eyes followed her like a magnet, the sight of her lips so close to Mal’s making something dark twist inside me.

Possessive.

Not jealous—never jealous—but possessive.

Topher’s voice echoed in my ear, laughter filling the room as Darcelle finally reached Mal, her eyes flashing with mischief. I sat back, chewing the inside of my cheek, already plotting how this night was going to end.

And it wasn’t going to be with Mal.