The Second Time Around

Pulling the black, fishnet stocking into place above her knee, Trixie sighed with a mixture of excitement and regret.

There were so many things in her life she
’
d
yet to experience, but hopefully after tonight
’
s outing, she could mark at least one of those titillating things off her list.

Inching the slinky black mini-dress over her ass, she turned to take one last glance in the mirror. Long blond hair streamed d
own her back, deep blue eyes framed by thick, black lashes stared back at her. Her lips were full and inviting, their color a brazen, juicy, red.

“
I
’
d do me.”
She grinned.

Grabbing her purse off the side table, she slipped from her apartment quietly.

Trixie Black had been a good-girl all of her life. When everyone else was out at college parties getting drunk or laid, she
’
d been held up in her dorm room under piles of books.

Sure, she
’
d had sex, but always with a steady partner, never a stranger. But
now she needed something different, some excitement in her not so extraordinary life.

Stepping out onto the busy city sidewalk she smiled to herself as she caught and held the attention of man after man without effort.

This was going to be a breeze.

Raising her hand, a cab immediately appeared before her. Leaning into the passenger window, her ample bosom overflowed her form-fitting top.

“
Where to, missy?”
the driver asked, nearly choking on his own tongue as he devoured her breasts with his eyes.

“
The Diamond Club,”
She replied with a devilish smirk.

“
Hop in.”

Slipping into the backseat, Trixie stared out the window and imagined what would happen when she found who she was looking for.

Images of strong hands covering her breasts, firm lips
traveling the length of her torso and lower, stirred her arousal. Pressing her legs together, she breathed deeply.

The ride lasted all of ten minutes before she was stepping onto the sidewalk in front of one of the hottest nightclubs in town. A line of pa
trons streamed down the sidewalk to end at the corner.

Handing the cabbie a twenty, she turned to find her way to the front of the crowd.

A man holding a clipboard smiled down at her, his eyes roamed over her openly.

“
You on the list?”
he asked with a
smirk.

“
Do I look like I
’
m on the list?”
she purred, trailing a finger down the front of his broad chest.

She wasn
’
t goody-two-shoes-Trixie tonight. She was a woman on the prowl.

With a grin he reached down, then released the red velvet rope allowin
g her to enter.

Turning, she tossed a wink in his direction and pushed her way through the throng of people.

The room was cast in a red glow, the music thumped from speakers dispersed about the shadowy corners of the building. The smell of perfume, col
ogne, and sex filled the air.

Crossing the dance floor, she took in the appearance of the many men scattered about. Many looked to be no more than twenty-five or so, not that she was much older herself.

Making her way to the bar, she hopped onto an empt
y stool.

“
What can I get you?”

“
Vodka rocks.”
she smiled.

Trixie wasn
’
t sure what had gotten into her. Up until this morning she
’
d been content with her life, as mundane as it sometimes seemed. She was safe, secure, and that
’
s how she liked it. But e
xcitement called to her. She needed the excitement only a man, a stranger, could give her. Taking a sip of her drink, she fought her fast rising arousal.

“
This seat taken?”

Turning, she smiled into the eyes of what had to be the sexiest man she
’
d ever
seen.

That was quick.

Thick black hair hung shaggily over his forehead. His eyes were every bit as blue as her own, and his lips were full, just begging to be kissed.

“
No, I don
’
t believe it is.”

She watched from the corner of her eye as he took his
seat and placed his order, ordering a second for her.

“
Are you waiting for someone?”

 
“
Kind of.”

“
Kind of?”
he asked curiously.

“
I
’
ll know him when I see him,”
she quipped playfully, running her fingertip over the rim of her glass.

He gazed at he
r for a moment before recognition lit his eyes. He knew exactly what she wanted. She read it in his features, in the wicked grin that split his devastatingly handsome face.

“
Really? Well, I envy him, whoever he may be.”

Slipping off of the stool, he he
ld out his hand. “
While you're waiting, would you care to dance?”

He didn
’
t know it, but she just found whom she
’
d been waiting for.

Smiling, her skin tingling, she slipped from the stool, her hand secure within his grasp.

The slide of his skin again
st hers sent a wave of heat straight to her core.

The music blared louder as he lead her onto the floor.

As they danced she took the liberty of running her hands over his shoulders, down his broad chest, increasing ratcheting her already smoldering need
another notch. The fact his hands were roaming her openly didn
’
t help her need any. With every touch she felt herself growing moist, a liquid heat settled between her legs.