The Thrill Is Gone

Staying awake during an eight am lecture was a task that Paulina was not often up for. It didn’t matter how interesting a subject was or how passionately a professor spoke about the topic, the mere fact that it was eight in the morning and she was far from bed, was enough to make her eyes grow heavy with sleep. The fact that she sat in the back row only added to her dozing off, and not even Alfred’s incessant nudging was enough to keep her awake throughout most of the lecture. There were always periods, ten minutes here or five there, when she’d doze off, but just as easily as she’d fallen asleep, she’d be woken by Alfred hissing or nudging her. He was the more responsible of the two when it came to lectures. As such, it was his duty to attempt to keep her awake, even if his attempts had a very low success rate.

And as of late, the low success rate was plummeting lower. It was harder for Paulina to stay awake during lectures than it had been during the previous term. In the last term all she had to worry about was course work, tutoring, rugby, and friends. Now, on top of all that, she had to make time to spend with Harry. Her weekends were now, for the most part, spent with him. So she’d spend the weekdays that she wasn’t tutoring, hanging out with her friends so they wouldn’t feel like she was excluding them, which meant that she now worked into the late hours of the night to keep up with the pile of readings and work that her professors assigned, and after weeks of doing that, the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll.

“You alright?” asked Alfred when lecture ended.

“Hmm?” was the response that the half awake Paulina gave him.

“Are you alright?” he repeated, saying his words a bit slower than before. “You didn’t take any notes during lecture. Not that you usually take loads of notes, but this time, ya didn’t take any.”

“I'm fine, Alfie, really. I'm just a little tired.”

“Well you’ve been a little tired since term started.”

“That’s because I'm adjusting to not sleeping until nine or ten everyday.” Paulina was about to rub her eye when she remembered that she’d put make up on that morning. “I give it a week before I can stay awake during lecture.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should.” She covered her mouth as a yawn passed through her lips. “Want to grab coffee before we head over to the next lecture?”

“We’ll be late if we do.” He was always mindful of the time.

“Fuck it. We’ll be a few minutes late. And it’s not like he’s ever there on time. He always runs in five minutes after class starts and then he has to set up his laptop and all that so we’ll be good. Ah. Come on, Alfie. Please?”

“I thought you only had one cup of coffee in the morning.”

“I do, but I didn’t have coffee at home. Finished it yesterday when I made Henry some to take with him on his drive back to London and I forgot to pick some up from the market when I went.” She paused only long enough to see Alfred smiling. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason.”

“You never smile without reason.”

“It’s just, well, I’ve heard you say that your favorite cup of coffee is the first and last cup that you make from a container, that there’s just something about the taste in those two instances which is unlike it any other point. And I thought it rather striking that you would give him the last cup. If Via were here, I daresay she’d call it adorable.”

“There’s nothing adorable about it.” Paulina mumbled, blushing slightly.

Alfred smiled to himself, seemingly pleased by his friend’s reaction. “Tell me, when are we to meet this boyfriend of yours? It’s been a little over a month and yet we only know him by you and by –”

“By whom?” she asked curiously, unaware that anyone else would be able to give an account of Harry.

“Callum,” replied Alfred. “Ran into him just last week, after your scrimmage had ended and he told me that he met Henry. He said he was nice enough, protective of you, as is only right for a boyfriend to be.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I don’t believe that in the slightest.”

“It’s true. We’re only dating.”

“And he’s spending the night.”

“Are you gonna get all preachy on me? If it’ll stop you from getting all preachy and concerned, just know that nothing’s happened. Geez, you’re as bad as my brother’s.”

“I'm acting on their behalf.”

“You don’t even know them.”

“As a brother, I know they’d want me to keep an eye on you.”

“So keeping an eye on me means supplying me with alcohol and weed?” she smirked.

“And condoms when the time comes.” He said, keeping a straight face.

“You did not just say that!” she burst into a laughter so strong that she doubled over, placing her hands on her knees as her eyes began to sting with laughter induced tears. “You’re . . . aye Dios mio (oh my god) . . . can’t believe you . . . said that!”

“Done laughing?” he asked her, standing beside her as people shot them questioning looks.

“Nearly,” she said, standing up straight. “Ah. I needed that laugh.”

“What you need is sleep.”

“Sleep’s overrated.” Paulina carefully wiped away the fallen tears. “So about that coffee, are we getting it or not?” she looked pleadingly at him.

“No, I want you to be tired and cranky for the next two lectures we have to get through.”

“Don’t forget the hour discussion section we have today.”

“How could I forget the discussion? That’ll add an hour of your crankiness to my day, and as we both know, there’s nothing I love more than hearing you complain about how it should be illegal to have classes before noon.”

“I get really passionate when I complain about that.”

“I know, I’ve heard.”

Laughter erupted from both of them. It was moments like that that made Paulina wonder why Alfred didn’t socialize with more people. He was charming, had a sense of humor that was at times dry, but at others, perfectly capable of being lively. He was the sort of person that one could easily pass an enjoyable day with, but the problem was that his disposition was only exceedingly charming and attentive when one was a close acquaintance or dear friend. Other than that, Alfred treated people with civility, but there was a want of warmth in it which made people think him proud and arrogant, instead of exceedingly shy and awkward in striking up a conversation other than the basic questions that society demands to be asked when making an acquaintance.

“You’ll meet Henry this weekend,” she told him as they walked towards the small café. “He’s gonna go to Callum’s party with me.”

“Is he really?”

She nodded. “He wanted to hang out on Friday but I told him hat was day of Callum’s party so I told him that I couldn’t cancel, and that he could come with me if he wanted. So he said would. I'm nervous about you guys meeting him.”

That wasn’t a lie. Alfred came from a family of socialites. He knew what Prince Harry looked like, on one occasion he’d met the young prince, but that was years ago. And Olivia, well, she was a royal watcher, and Paulina had a feeling that her friend wouldn’t be fooled by the wig and sideburns.

“Why? Are you afraid we’ll embarrass ya?”

“Believe it or not, it’s not that. It’s just – well I want you guys to like him. That probably sounds really lame, but I want you to get along and stuff so that maybe we could all hang out in the future. Not that I'm thinking I'm gonna be with him forever, but I'm just saying that in the foreseeable future – know what, I'm rambling. I know nothing and I'm just a mess that hasn’t had her coffee and needs to have her coffee or else she’ll go fucking crazy . . . crazier, I mean.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think I’ll get on well with him.”

“Really?” she looked up at home, eyes filled with hope.

Alfred nodded. “From what I’ve heard he’s a decent bloke. Reckon you ought to get him tested before ya have a go with him, just to make sure he’s not gonna pass anything onto you. But other than that, he sounds alright. Via’s in raptures about him. Keeps going on about how brilliant he must be, how handsome, so with her, ya know she’s gonna be very much pleased with him.”

“You know, sometimes you know exactly what to say.”

“Not sometimes, all the time, but I very rarely want to be of comfort,” he teased. “Since we’re on the topic of Callum’s party, where is it? I keep forgetting where he said it was gonna be and I lost the bloody invitation he gave me.”

“Alfie!” she groaned. “You have to be more careful with invites. What if you need it to get in?”

“To get in?” he cocked his brow. “Why on earth would I need the invitation to get in?”

“Because he’s having his party at The Bridge, well it’s at The Lounge. That’s the space he rented out,” she answered.

“Is it there, really? Hmm,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Does he come from money?” he asked, curious by how the student could afford to rent out an entire floor.

“His dad’s the Prime Minister of New Zealand.” Paulina replied, surprised that Alfred wasn’t aware of that fact. “I thought you knew. Everyone knows.”

“Have you forgotten that I'm not a Rhodes Scholar?”

“Oh right, sorry, we’ve got the same classes so I forget that sometimes,” she smiled sheepishly. “But yeah, Callum’s dad is a Prime Minister and before that he worked for Wall Street so I guess they do have a good chunk of change.”

“I would’ve never guessed that his father was a Prime Minister.”

“It’s because he’s not like his dad. At least he says he’s not like his dad. I don’t know his dad so I'm not sure if that’s true or not, but Callum’s a nice guy. He fucks around a lot, sleeps around a bunch, but he’s smart and even though I don’t agree with some of his politics, he’s cool guy to hang out with.”

“Well that’s not why I can’t believe his dad’s who he is. I just assumed that Rhodes Scholarships were given to students that were remarkable and didn’t have such connections. It seems unfair that a Scholarship would be awarded to Callum when his family has the wealth they have and his father is a Prime Minister. Don’t you think that odd?”

“I do, but it was it is. Callum’s really intelligent and he has the quite resume, so I think that’s why they felt comfortable with awarding him a scholarship.”

“Hmm, they might’ve been, but I don’t think I am. It seems rude of him to accept a scholarship that another student would’ve been more deserving of. He doesn’t need the stipend to attend this university.”

“He probably did it for the title. It’s a prestigious fucking title.”

“Perhaps, but I can no longer view him in the same light. Pity, I quite liked him.”

“You’re absurd, Alfie. He’s still a nice guy. I mean, he spent six months building houses in Africa and then another six in Latin America.”

“Should’ve given them a scholarship is what he should’ve done.”

“There’s no reasoning with you.”

He ignored that comment. “Is his birthday going to be fancy dress, then?”

“No, Alfie. He rented out a floor of a club and wants us to go dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.” She replied, sarcastically. “Of course he wants us to get dressed up!”

“But I don’t want to!” he protested.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re gonna put on some trousers, a nice dress shirt, and dress shoes, and give the beard a trim and go to the party.”

“I think I’ll tell him I'm ill. That’ll –”

“Have you forgotten that Via’s going?” she reminded.

“So she’s gonna have to get all dressed up,” he muttered to himself. “Right, I’ve got to buy a shirt and a jacket . . . trousers, I need new trousers. Want to go with me after class?”

“I'm tutoring today until nine.”

“Nine?” he gasped.

“There are four people that really need to study for a Spanish midterm that’s tomorrow so I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Ah bloody hell. That professor chose the absolute worst day to give them an exam, but since you’re busy, how about we go tomorrow? It’s a free day so maybe we could grab lunch before and then go buy clothes?”

“Are you asking me on a shopping date?”

“Hmm, yes, it would seem so.”

“Then I’ll go, but I need to buy something to wear to.”

Alfred shot her a look.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re doing the exact same thing. You’re gonna go spend money on new clothes when you have perfectly good clothes at home, just so you can look extra well put together for Via. And I'm gonna get myself a dress to do the same.”

Shopping for Alfred’s outfit proved to be infinitely less stressful than Paulina expected it to be. In less than an hour’s time they picked out a look that made him look quite dashing and also one that he felt comfortable wearing. During the process, comfort had been something that he kept emphasizing. He didn’t want to feel like he was being choked or anything like that. He wanted to feel at ease and capable of movement. Finding a dress for Paulina proved to be more tedious and annoying than either of them had assumed. They went store by store looking for something that would do, but neither of them found anything that would be of use.

“Since when does every bloody dress have to be in animal print?” he complained loudly, his dark eyed narrowed in annoyance as he inspected another dress that just wouldn’t do. “And not only are they in animal print, they’re in all the bloody colors of the rainbow. This is ludicrous. I mean, honestly, is there such a thing as a hot pink cheetah?”

“Don’t forget the lime green leopard,” chimed in Paulina, her face also adorned with a look of displeasure.

“How could I forget the lime green leopard?” he cried dramatically. “I’ve dreamt of lime green leopards, you know. And now I know that they at one point existed, but were murdered for the sake of fashion.”

“Fashion is a cruel mistress.”

“And one that apparently likes to have women’s bums out in the open.” He pulled a dress off the rack. “Look at this!” he held the fabric close to his body. “If I were to wear this, my bum would be out in the open! I can’t even imagine what it’d do to a woman with an actual bum.”

“It would leave half her ass hanging out,” stated Paulina, knowingly. “Ugh. This is so fucking frustrated. Fuck this. I'm just not gonna go out. I’ll tell him, I'm sick. That’s what I’ll do.”

“You’re not gonna do that.”

“I am.” Paulina proclaimed defiantly.

“That bloke’s seen you all roughed up after a rugby match, I'm sure that he’s going to think you absolutely stunning in whatever dress you buy.”

“But the dresses here suck. The plus size section is awful. The stuff’s either just a bigger version of the standard sizes, which isn’t right because fuller girls have different body shapes, but it’s the exact same cut as the other selection and that shit’s not flattering! And then the stuff that’s the right fit is old lady stuff that looks like crap. And it’s just a fucking pain.” Paulina leant against a nearby wall and hung her head down. “I should’ve bought more going out clothes in America, but my mom kept saying that I had to bring elegant clothes for dinners and Rhodes Scholar stuff, but it’s like, I should’ve gotten more clothes to go to clubs in. I mean I have clothes, but it’s like – I hate this. I hate my body.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” She lifted her head. “Buying clothes is always a pain. I’ve never bought jeans that just fit. If they fit my ass and thighs, they don’t fit my waist. So my mom always had to tailor them for me. She does the same thing for dresses, but she’s not here. So what am I gonna do? Fuck. I'm so frustrated. I'm just going to pretend to be sick. Tell him that we should stay at my flat instead. I won’t panic if we’re just hanging out.”

“You shouldn’t panic either way.” He took her hand. “This fellow, this Henry fancies you. That’s why he drives from London to Oxford, almost every weekend. He clearly thinks you’re quite the beauty. And can I say something? But you’ve got to promise not to be offended.”

“I promise.”

“You have a lovely bum.” He told her. “It’s not as lovely’s as Olivia’s, but then again, I don’t there’s a bum in the world that rivals hers. But your bum is lovely, very shapely.”

“It has cellulite.”

“Since when has a large bum not had cellulite?” Alfred smiled softly, hoping that his friend would get out of her mood. “Look, I understand that you don’t feel fantastic right now, not with the dresses not working the way they should, but you’re beautiful and we’ll find you something nice to wear.”

“A flannel bed sheet . . .” she muttered to herself.

Alfred shook his head. “Why don’t you just sit here, continue sulking, and I’ll go find ya something to wear?”

“You’re not gonna find anything.” Paulina groaned.

“I might not find anything, but I'm sure one of the ladies working this shop will.”

“Why are you being so helpful?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Because I only have a handful of actual friends and I’d rather not see any of them unhappy. The rest of the world can be as miserable as they like, not my friends though, not them.”

That said, Alfred left in search of an employee that would help him find a dress for his friend. He had an idea of what it ought to look like, nothing too short, ideally it would hit just above the knee or below it. And no animal print! Animal print belonged on the Jersey Shore, nowhere else.

Paulina leant against the wall in silence. She didn’t hate her body, not really. Sure there were moments when she became frustrated with her touching thighs and less than toned stomach, but for the most part she was happy with how she looked. She was pleased with what she saw in the mirror, but sometimes her confidence was shaken, and she wished she looked different. And she’d sulk about it for awhile, perhaps even go out on a few more runs and walks than she accustomed to, but eventually, her confidence would be restored and she’d be back to her usual self.

With a soft sigh, Paulina stood from her seat, determined to cast aside her insecurities for the time being, and to rally her spirits. She’d gone to help Alfred shop. Not to have him tend to her in her moment of insecurities. Feeling capable of taking on the task of finding a dress for the party, she began to make her way across the shop, where Alfred was exerting himself by talking to a petite woman in a bold floral print dress. He normally didn’t approach people he didn’t know unless it was absolutely necessary, and although an outfit issue would not normally have fallen into that category for him, at the present it did. And he was doing his absolute best to not turn into the incredibly shy man that would say as few words as possible and then end up appearing odd or worse, arrogant.

“So this dress is for your friend?” asked the young woman, whose named he learned was Rachel.

“It is.”

“Then why isn’t she the one asking for help?”

“Oh, well, if you must know, she’s grown quite frustrated. Been at this for quite awhile, we have, and her outlook is no longer as positive as it was at the start. So I’ve taken it upon myself to find her a dress, with your help, of course, or the help of anyone that works here.”

“I can help.” Rachel assured. “I just thought it odd that she wouldn’t want to have a say in what she’ll wear. But if she doesn’t mind, then that’s s’alright. So what size does she wear?”

“I wear an American 12 for the waist, but a 14 or 16 in order to get my bum and thighs in.” Paulina entered the conversation, looking bright eyed and ready to go.

“Thought you’d given up on the search,” Alfred commented.

“I figured if you hadn’t given up, I shouldn’t.” Paulina turned her attention back to the employee. “Do you think there might be something that’ll fit right?”

“There should be,” replied Rachel. “I think you had problems because you were looking in the day to day plus size section, but we’ve got another one for smart casual, you know for nights on the town and those sorts of things.”

“You mean the animal print dresses weren’t for going out?” asked Paulina.

“No,” Rachel chuckled lightly. “Those are, for some fashionistas, considered alright daywear.”

“No fucking way.” Paulina blurted out.

“It’s the return of the 80’s,” joked Rachel. “The animal print and bright colors are attacking, but don’t worry, we’ll find you an outfit that’ll flatter your figure.”

“It can’t be animal print.” Alfred reminded, having completely ignored the exchanged the young women just had.

“I’ll make a note of that.” Rachel said, shooting Paulina a smile.

“And her bits need to be covered up!” he hastily added.

“Alfred!” exclaimed an embarrassed, Paulina.

“What? It’s true! You said you needed to have your bum covered or else everyone one would be able to see it.”

“I did, but you didn’t have to say it so loud.”

Alfred shrugged. “I don’t understand how that mind of yours works. I was just saying what you’d said, but different, a little.”

They squabbled a little longer and then followed Rachel to the section where evening wear and cocktail dresses were located. Rachel began to select dresses off the rack to show to them. Most were almost immediately disapproved of. They were too shorts, others too long, the pattern was too busy, there was more glitter scattered about it than at a Gay Pride parade, the neckline plunged to deeply, the cut wasn’t right and the color just wasn’t her.

“How about this?” asked a frustrated Rachel. “There aren’t many more dresses left. And if you don’t –”

“This is it!” exclaimed Paulina, excitedly. “Sensual, yet elegant, bright, but not overwhelming . . . ah, yes, this is it! Ah fuck . . .”

“What’s wrong with it?” Rachel didn’t understand what objections could be made to the dress.”

“The stomach area,” replied Paulina. “The dress is really fitted and I – well my gut might jiggle a little and look all weird.”

“The details in the midsection will conceal that which you wish to conceal. It has a bustier style to it so there shouldn’t be any jiggling, but you could wear a slip to keep yourself strapped in, so to say. We’ve got quite a selection. Would you care to see them?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Paulina nodded. “Are there any strapless slips?”

“There are, and they come in a few colors.”

Paulina ended up getting a fitted slip in a nude color, and the moment she slipped it on, she was in love. The slimming bands swept her body into an embrace that lifted her breasts higher than normal and shaped her bum in a way that it had never looked before. She was surprised by how breathable the fabric was, and how startlingly comfortable it actually was. And when she put the dress on atop the slip, she knew for certain that that would be the dress she wore for the party.

And come Friday evening, she was strutting about the apartment with as much confidence as she had for Quinceañera and on her graduation days. Her hair was let down in soft curls, her make up had been done with a bold red lip and complimentary eyeliner. She was more meticulous than usual with the way she did it, having even gone so far as to watch YouTube for make up tricks, and by the time Harry knocked on her door, she was finished getting ready and all that was left to do was to throw on the dress atop the slip.

Paulina quickly bolted towards the bedroom area where she’d hung up her dress, she took it off the hanger and quickly slipped it on, careful to smooth it out. She then slipped on her shoes, threw her ID, keys, phone, and money into her coat so that she’d be alright. Then, when all that had been settled, she took a deep breath and walked over towards the door.

Standing just outside the door, dressed in a fine suit, was Harry. He’d arrived earlier and would’ve gone over to Paulina’s place straight over had it not been a night out on the town. Women, he knew, needed quite a bit of time to prepare for outings so he drove around Oxford for a bit before deeming it an acceptable time to show up. He was nervous about being in a club setting with her, but it was an excited nervousness. They’d never been dancing and the thought of moving rhythmically against her was one that brought him joy. He just wished that they wouldn’t have to be in a room filled with people to dance. He enjoyed the privacy that her apartment afforded them, but it was her friend’s birthday and she had to be there.

He buried his hands in his trouser pockets as he waited for her to open the door. She was usually good about opening the door fairly soon after he knocked. She was probably busy, sorting out her hair or make up. Growing bored of what the door looked like, he turned his head to the hallway, staring out the lone window at the end of it, and then turned his face when he heard the door open.

“Hey!” was her word of welcome, it was said with such affection and excitement that a grin, instantaneously spread across his face.

But when he turned to look at her, his grin faltered, and he was left taking in the appearance that was so much transformed that he was quite literally in a state of shock. Usually, when thinking about her, he thought she was exceedingly pretty, quite beautiful, and adorable. But at that moment those words were nowhere to be found, there was only one that he could use to describe her, sexy. She looked incredibly sexy in the fitted dress. Her every curve was on display, from her bosom to her derrière. The shapeliness of her hips called to him, begging his hands to make their home there.

“Y-you look . . .” he looked up from her dress to her face, which was every bit as lovely and done up, as her body.

“I must look damn good if I left you speechless.” She smiled at him with such fondness that his heart immediately swelled with emotion.

He recovered from his silent moment and stepped forward, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her towards him.

“You look ravishing.” He complimented in a deep voice, filled with lust that made her knees wobble. “Absolutely ravishing . . .” he tilted his head downwards, carrying his lips towards her plump red ones.

“Settle down, Henry.” Paulina placed her hand on his chest. “I'm not about to fuck this lipstick up so early in the night.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair to me.” He pouted.

She grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and pulled him farther into her. “Don’t worry; I’ll make it up to you.”

It took all his self restraint to not have her then and there.

“Let me grab my coat and we can be on our way,” she told him, stepping away. “Do you want anything to drink or need to use the loo?”

“No, I'm fine, thank you.”

The pair soon left the privacy of her apartment and began the taxi drive over to the club. Harry had offered to drive them. It was no big deal, he’d said. But they were going to drink, very much likely to drink copious amounts of alcohol that would leave them woozy and eager to venture into uncharted territory.

“Are you certain your friend won’t mind my being there?” he asked as they sat in the backseat, his arm draped across her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. Callum said it was cool.” She reassured. “The guys were actually really stoked to hear that you were going. They liked you a lot, said you seemed rad. Well, not rad, but you get the idea. Oh! And today you’re gonna get to meet Alfie and Via, they’re the best.”

“Alfred is the one whose flat you were in that time in London?” he would’ve asked if he was the brother of the bird he’d shagged, but that wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Do you think he’ll like me? From what I’ve heard, he sounds like an old man trapped inside a young body.”

“He is an old guy in a young body, but he’s just an overall stand up guy. And as long as you don’t grab my ass in front of him, it’ll be good.”

“It’s not my fault that I grab your bum as often as I do. It’s got a gravitational pull that just draws them in.”

“You’re such a caveman.”

“A very well behaved caveman,” he added.

“Well behaved? Hmm, no, don’t think you can describe yourself as that.”

“But I am.”

“How so?” she asked.

“If I were a full blown caveman, we wouldn’t have left the apartment,” he whispered into her ear, sending chills through her body.

Paulina was about to say something in reply when the cabbie announced that they’d arrived at the club. She took the money from her jacket and handed it to the driver, all the while hearing Harry protest about how he was going to pay for it. She didn’t like having him pay for everything so she’d started getting the money ready beforehand so that she could pay for things before he even had a chance to reach for his wallet. She didn’t want him to pay for everything.

Outside the club, there was a line of people waiting to get inside. Paulina and Harry didn’t have to join them, they were part of the reservations so they simply walked up to the door, Paulina showed her ID to verify that she was indeed on the list and then walked inside, hand in hand. By the time they arrived, most of her friends were already gathered there. All the guys from the rugby team were there, some were busy dancing, others were drinking and others were just laughing. Alfred and Olivia hadn’t arrived yet. They’d told Paulina to text them when she got there, so that they could be able to meet up with her, and fifteen minutes after Paulina had arrived with Harry, the pair showed up.

The introductions were warmly made. Harry shook both of her friend’s hands, offering them a friendly smile as he did so. In return, Alfred gave him a nod of the head and a firm handshake that was meant to intimidate. Olivia went a step further, giving him a hug after they finished shaking hands, and when she pulled away, her eyes flickered with curiosity when they landed on his face. He sort of looked like . . . no, it couldn’t possibly be him. It was just dark in the club. Yes, it was dark and she’d had a glass of wine before they drove over, so her mind was playing tricks on her. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

“Paula!” bellowed a drunken Callum, halfway through the party. “They’re gonna put the music on!”

“The music’s already on!” she bellowed over the house music that was playing.

“Not that music. The Latin music! Remember the list ya help me make?”

“Oh right, yeah.”

“Would ya give me the honor of dancing the first one with me?”

Paulina looked over at Harry, wordlessly asking if he’d be alright on his own for a bit.

Callum noticed the look and immediately spoke. “Where are my bloody manners? Henry, Sir, it alright if I have a dance with her? Promise I’ll bring her back soon as it’s done with.”

“Yeah, mate, that’s alright.”

Thank you, she mouthed to him, placing a quick kiss on his lips before following Callum out onto the dance floor. Callum held onto her hand tightly as they walked onto the middle of the floor, just a few feet away from the DJ booth. He looked over at the DJ, waving his hands in the air so he would start the dance playlist that he’d made a few days earlier. The first song that was played was Suavemente by Elvis Crespo. It was the sort of song that was played at weddings, backyard parties, and clubs alike. It had an infectious rhythm and everything about the song was dance worthy. Having spent a few months in Columbia, Callum was a somewhat good dancer and he spun around the floor with Paulina, with great ease. They laughed all the while, moving drunkenly to the rhythm.

When the song ended, Paulina hugged him tightly and wished him a happy birthday. She then walked back over to Harry whom was standing in front of the pair, having himself another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t ya finish that drink and dance with me?” she told him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Harry finished his drink and turned to face her, she was pressed up against his chest and staring at him with a look that he couldn’t say no to. “Go on, let’s go dance.”

The song that played was more provocative than the former. It was a Pitbull song named The Anthem, the sort of song where personal space is nonexistent and groins and bums eagerly meet to move against one another. Harry was unsure of how to dance to it. He hadn’t heard a lot of Latin music, so he let her take the lead. She placed his hands on her hips and then backed against him until her back was pressed against his chest. She then began to grind into him, swaying her head from side to side as she let herself become lost in the music. In time, Harry grew used to it, his hands began to roam her body and with each passing second, with each grind, they grew more and more heated.

Paulina turned so that she faced him. She wrapped an arm around his neck and straddled a leg of his. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, the other travel downwards, grabbing tightly onto her derrière. He couldn’t hold on much longer, not with the way they were moving, so he relinquished control to his most primitive self and latched his lips fiercely onto hers. There was no hesitation in the kiss, not by either of them. His lips met hers, her lips opened and without even stopping to think that they were in a middle of a dance floor, they began to heatedly make out, stumbling about like drunken idiots until Harry somehow fell onto a chair.

“Let’s get out of here!” bellowed Paulina when she helped him up.

His reply came in the form of the grab of the hand and a tug; he led her off the dance floor, through the dimly lit hallway, and out the door, into the street. If it hadn’t been for the fact that they ran by the coat room, they would’ve forgotten their outerwear. They’d forgotten to say goodbye to her friends, to the birthday boy, their coats weren’t a priority, but when they ran by, she had a fleeting moment of clarity and remembered that her keys were in the pocket. They needed that coat. So after rushing the young woman working the room, they grabbed their coats and ran into the street, Paulina waving her arms around like a madwoman as she attempted to catch the attention of passing cab. That task was made more difficult when Harry’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close so that he could place feverish kisses along the back of her neck.

When a cab finally stopped for them, they leapt into the backseat, not caring what the driver thought about them. After muttering the street intersection where they were to be dropped off, Harry launched himself at Paulina, situating himself between her thighs as his calloused hands slipped under her dress, pushing the fabric back so that he could get closer to her. In no time at all, her skirt was bunched up at the waist, her recently shaven legs on full display. The smoothness of them was intoxicating, he ran his right hand along her thighs, as his left rested on her hip, grabbing onto it with such intensity that it would surely leave a mark of sorts. Not that she was in pain. No, she was far to lost in the pleasure of it all, she was relishing in the possessive manner that he was handling her.

The cab driver wasted no time in getting them to her apartment complex. He wasn’t fond of having people dry humping in the back of his cab. He took far too much pride in having it clean and tidy, but on weekend nights, the college crowd got rowdy and left a mess that never failed to fluster him. The fare was quickly handed to him. He was given a bit too much, but feeling that he deserved it for not having kicked them out for behaving like animals, the driver said nothing and sped off, leaving the two drunken youths to make their way up the path and stairs that would lead them to the entrance.

How they managed to make it to her apartment was unknown to them. It seemed that they were stopping every other step to make out somewhere, to feel the other’s body just to make sure that whatever was happening was actually happening. But somehow they made it into the apartment and managed to stumble inside. The door was carelessly closed by a kick of Paulina’s foot. There were more important things to worry about than closing the door. There were lips that needed pressing, bodies that needed exploring, and an ache that stemmed from deep within them that needed tending to.

Now that they were inside her apartment, her hands slipped underneath his wig and ousted it, sending it hurling towards the kitchen sink where it would lay until they stirred in the morning. Her hand grabbed at his hair, tugging at it as her lips continued in the passionate embrace that it’d been in since they’d stepped inside. She didn’t know what it was about Harry, but there was something about him; in his look, in his touch, that set her entire body aflame. She wanted more. No. It was beyond wanted. She needed more of him. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d had all of him.

And feeling bolder, more certain of what she wanted from the night, she maneuvered them towards the couch, careful never to break their kiss, and pushed him onto the cushions. He landed with a soft thud; the rupture in their kiss caused him to grow anxious. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he shouldn’t have held onto her bum as tightly as he had, maybe she felt he was pressuring her. Bloody hell! He was going to have to apologize. There was no getting around that. He’d have to apologize and sound sincere about having made her feel uncomfortable even if there was a massive erection in his pants that was making it harder to think straight.

He took in a deep breath, hoping that the burst of oxygen would clear his thoughts so that he’d be able to apologize and then make a ran for her bathroom to see to himself, but when he looked up, he wasn’t met with a disapproving look. There was a far more inviting scene unfolding before him. There, standing between his parted legs, was a partially dressed Paulina. In the time it took him to rally the nerve to look at her, she’d stripped herself of the dress that had been adorning her figure, and left herself in only a thin slip. There was a mischievous smile on her face, one that promised a night he would never forget, and in her eyes there was such burning lust that had her hands rested atop the fabric of his trousers, he would’ve found his orgasm.

Though, as it was, she was standing within his reach, yet at an unbearable distance, and all he could do was scoot forward to minimize the distance between them, to feel the heat that radiated from her. His hands hesitantly reached towards her, afraid that if he touched her, he’d wake from another dream, but this time when his hand came into contact with her hip, he didn’t wake up in bed, cursing at himself. Instead, he felt the smooth fabric of her slip, the shapeliness of her curves.

“I'm mad about you . . .” he told her in a deep, lust filled voice.

She cupped his face in her hands. “So am I.”

Nothing further needed to be said. Words were no longer necessary. Their looks carried across their points, her moans would tell him of her desires, and his low grunts and pleasured looks would carry his to her. His hands went to the bottom of her slip, resting against her knees as he slowly began to move up her thighs, the fabric bunching against his wrist, until it all met at her waist and she found herself forced to raise her hands so that it could be cast aside, forgotten as another barrier that had kept them apart. She stood before him in nothing more than heels and a black bra with matching lace boy shorts. She’d assumed that she’d be nervous in standing in front of him in so little clothing, that her mind would throw mental pictures at her of the usual sort that he was known to shag, but at that moment, there were no nerves, no doubts. She was confident in herself, pleased with the way he stared at her figure.

Wasting no more time, she straddled his lap, pressing herself into him as she watched his face for a reaction. Sure enough, a pleasured moan escaped his lips, his eyes darkened with lust and before she registered what was happening, his lips were on hers. There was a more dominant edge to his kiss. He was in control of it, his tongue attempted to lead the fiery tango, but she kissed back with every bit of passionate as he did. She wrapped her hands around his neck and moved herself upwards, pinning him between her body and the back of the couch. Harry smirked into the kiss. His hands traveling to the back of her bra, where in one swift movement, it was disarmed and the soft flesh that it had been restraining all night, were granted their freedom.

His hands were fixed on them, pushing them together as he stared at them with lustful eyes. It had been far too long since he’d last had sex, far too long since he’d held a pair of tits in his hands. And he wasted no time in diving right into them, taking the soft rose bud of one into his lips as the other was massaged by his hand. He sucked on the breast, letting it be moistened by his eager lips, and then he let them pass through his teeth so that they could be grazed on, not enough to cause discomfort, but enough to saturate her already soaked panties.

Her hand cupped the back of his head, resting against his hair as he moved from one nipple to the other, bestowing upon it the same exquisite treatment. Her eyelashes fluttered as a wave of pleasure went through her. He was only on her breasts and she already felt herself becoming undone. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen when he buried himself deep inside her.

When his lips reclaimed their rightful place on hers, she slid her hands down his chest until reaching the top of his trousers, the button and zipper were hastily undone, the thin fabric of his boxers was soon pushed down, and his throbbing erection was left in her hand. She tensed at the girth of it. She’d thought that the last guy she’d been with was thick, but he was nothing compared to what was currently in her hands. She scooted away towards his knees, and as she did so, tugged down at his trousers and boxers with her free hand. Her eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before her. That was not what she was expecting from him. She was expecting him to be average, maybe a little above, but not that, certainly not that.

She cautiously took him back in her hand, watching in silence as his hips bucked forwards and eyes closed. A bit of spit passed through her lips and fell on him as she continued to stroke him, falling into a steady rhythm that had low grunts escaping his lips every so often. She wasn’t going to suck him off. Blow jobs had never really been her thing, but a hand job to get things going was almost a must.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked him.

“I-in my jacket, there’s a pocket . . . ah . . .”

He would’ve gotten it for her, but he didn’t trust himself at that moment. She opened his jacket, and sure enough there was a small pocket that housed several condoms. One was taken from the pile and carefully opened. She slowly slid it onto him, taking her time to unroll it so that every inch of him was covered. She moved herself from his lap and tugged down at her panties, letting them drop into a messy little pile on the floor. Then, she grabbed at his trousers that were right at the knee and pulled them, along with boxers, off. In the mess of it, he shoes came off as well, but the dark dress socks were still covering his pale flesh.

Harry took the liberty of relieving himself of his jacket and shirts. There was now nothing separating them, nothing stopping them from plunging into that sweet ecstasy that both had fantasized about in the private moments. He held out his hand to her, thinking that they would be making their way over to the bed, but she used his hand to help her climb the couch. She then set his hand down on her upper thigh, and hovered above him as she positioned him at her entrance. Eager to help, he moved his hands to her ass, spreading her cheeks so that she’d be able to fit him in smoother. He’d thought there’d be more foreplay between them, but after weeks of sexual tension, foreplay was nothing more than a waste of time.

Paulina inhaled sharply when the tip of his member brushed against her warmth, causing a twitch of pleasure to shoot through her. She tried to steady herself. She had to put him at the perfect spot so that she could slowly lower herself onto him. After fiddling around, she was able to take in the tip, and then a few more inches, she stopped, the stretching of her walls causing a whimper of discomfort to pass through her lips. Harry instinctively placed his lips on the base of her neck, letting them linger against the flushed flesh to give her pleasure to distract her from the initial pain. His plan worked. The whimper was replaced with a pleasured moan and as her back arched, he took charge of entering her and slowly thrust his way in, until every bit of him was buried deep inside her.

Her body instinctively leant forwards, her right hand wrapping around his neck while the left grasped onto the couch for support. She was in that position for only a moment, for soon she leant backwards, rested her hand against his left thigh and slowly rose, lifting herself until she felt that only the tip of him remained within, and then without warning, Harry grabbed onto her hips and sent her plummeting onto him. A resounding fuck flew from her lips. She had half a mind to tell him to go fuck himself and call it a night, but Harry continued to thrust, each one washing away the discomfort, bit by bit, until all that was left was an intoxicating pleasure that left her yearning for more.

She began to move against him, meeting his thrust halfway as they dove further and further into one another. Harry was an earnest lover, he was passionate and eager, delivering thrust after thrust, despite the fact that the tightness of his lover was enough to send him over the edge. When she’d admitted to him that she hadn’t had sex in half a year, he hadn’t believed her. There was no way that she or anyone could go that long, but now that he was inside her, now that he was making her cry out in ecstasy, he knew that she’d been sincere. And he gladly claimed her body as his own, delivering an endless supply of thrusts as his hands kept a firm hold on her ass.

“Turn around, turn the fuck around.” He demanded.

She did as she was told, repositioning herself so that her back rested against his toned chest. She placed a leg on either side of his thighs, and then eased herself onto him. She expected to take over, to be the one that bounced on him, but he took one of her legs into the air and rested his head on her breast, biting down on it as he began a fresh assault of thrusts on her. There was no steady rhythm, no gentle pace. He was taking her as he wanted, slamming himself deep inside her as she writhed in pleasure against him. Her moans were a potent drug that had him on a high unlike any other. He needed her to cry out his name, to have those swollen lips declare him as the best lover she’d ever had, as the only lover that would’ve ever truly earned her.

And so he slammed himself, keeping her leg flung high in the air as his other hand busied itself by moving in tight circles above her warmth. The intensity of the vaginal and clitoral stimulation was too much for her. It wasn’t long before she collapsed atop him, her hair fanning out on the back of the couch as the first orgasm of the night shot through her body, rendering her unable to think clearly or to even move.

Harry took that moment to wrap his arms around her midsection and stand up from the couch. He moved her so that she was the one whose naked flesh would mingle with the fabric. It was her knees that sunk into a cushion and her breasts that leant against the arm of the couch. Harry spread her legs, staring hungrily at her warmth. With his left hand he applied pressure on the small of her back, causing her to jerk downwards, and with his right, he guided himself inside her. In one fluid motion he was buried deep inside, his balls smacking against her as a flurry of curse words escaped both their lips.

He was mesmerized by the way she rocked into him, the intensity with which her ass rose and fell with each passing movement. It was an inviting ass, hypnotizing and welcoming, and before he could register what he was doing, he lifted his hand and delivered a hard smack against the lightly tan flesh. Spanking had never really been his thing, but when he heard her order him to do it again, he gladly obliged, delivering an equally hard smack across the other cheek, one so hard that it was sure to leave a mark. She didn’t care though. Spanking was her thing. She loved being on her knees and having someone just drive deep inside her as they took turns spanking and tugging at her hair. She wasn’t into being tied up or any of that stuff, but she enjoyed a rough fuck. And Harry was delivering one that would leave her sore for days to come.

Her second orgasm left her unable to remain on her knees any longer. Harry hoisted her up with his arm and busied himself by stuffing some pillows underneath her stomach with his free hand. He then resumed his senseless fucking; causing her body to spasm with each thrust she delivered. The pleasure was maddening. She’d had her fill, more than what she’d ever experienced before, but there was still more pleasure being poured on her, an endless amount that was causing her to forget that there was a world outside the apartment walls.

Harry placed sloppy kisses along her back, his brow furrowing as he felt his orgasm nearing. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way her walls were clenched tightly against him. His time was quickly arriving and when he felt that familiar sensation scorch through him, he wrapped his arms around her midsection, pulling her off the pillows, and then began to give his final thrusts with everything he had. He gritted his teeth, trying to fight off his orgasm for as long as he could, but there was no fighting it. It shot through his body, sending his seed flowing into his condom as her walls too him for all he had. They lay on the couch in a comfortable silence, their ragged breathing standing in place of conversation as their bodies recovered. That was the first time she’d ever had multiple orgasms. That was the first time Harry was the one to ask if they could have another go in the morning.