New Orleans After Dark

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It was the first girls trip we had been on in quite a while, and New Orleans seemed like the perfect city in which to let loose. Jessica, who was not-so-patiently awaiting her divorce to be final, was looking forward to finding one or more random strangers with whom to expend the pent up sexual energy that her soon to be ex husband had neglected to enjoy. I had been helping her shop for sexy clubwear and lingerie, and she was so fixated on finding a man she was about to make me climb the nearest wall. I wanted to find a bar and a man for her as quickly as possible so that she would shut the fuck up. I loved her dearly, but enough was enough. I hadn’t really thought much about finding these things for myself, but it was four in the morning and we had just driven 11 hours from North Carolina to get here. I was tired and cranky and crashing from a Red Bull and Twizzler sugar high. Perhaps by noon tomorrow these things would appeal to me but for now I just wanted to sleep.

We were meeting up with our friends Claire and Alyssa, who were already in town for Alyssa’s law firm conference. Why anyone thought New Orleans was a good destination in which to expect a bunch of young attorneys to hang around and actually get work done seemed like an obvious set up for failure. I suspect the organizers of the whole thing didn’t really have high expectations but likely wanted a way to use company money to pay for some fun and debauchery. Either way, we were getting to stay in their hotel room for free, so it worked out well for us.

When Jessica and I arrived at 4am we realized we had never heard back from them when we texted that we would be arriving in the middle of the night instead of the next afternoon. We knocked on the door and waited. Crickets. We called both of their cell phones and heard them ringing through the door, but no answer. At least we knew they were in there. Because we were camping out in this room that was already paid for by Alyssa’s law firm, our names were not on the hotel registration so no one would give us a key. We might be screwed.

“Bree – I told you this would happen. Those bitches are drunk and passed out, they will never hear us. We are going to have to sleep in the hall!”

“Give them a minute,” I said. Drunk people move slowly.

“I think we should just get our own room – I’ll use Alan’s credit card.” Jessica was aching to do something to stick it to her ex.

“Don’t give that asshole any reason to make you look bad. Can you imagine what his attorney might do with a hotel bill from you and me in New Orleans?”

Jessica shushed me as we heard rustling and fumbling on the other side of the door. The door jerked open and was abruptly halted by the security chain on the inside.

“Fuck,” a drunken Claire mumbled through the crack in the door while looking at us with one mascara smeared eye only slightly open. “Hang on.” She closed the door and removed the chain while we breathed a sigh of relief that we wouldn’t have to sleep in the hallway.

The greetings would have to wait until morning since these two were still sleeping off their night of drinking, and we were exhausted from a 12 hour drive. Claire mumbled something to us about the bathroom as she threw herself back into bed. I’m sure they had a story to tell about whatever shenanigans had occurred earlier that evening, but we would have to wait and hear it over breakfast. Or more likely, lunch.

The sun peeking into a New Orleans hotel room was not quite as rude an awakening for weary travelers as it was for people with hangovers. Jessica and I were up and fully caffeinated long before Alyssa and Claire. When we got back from breakfast the two of them were finally stirring.

“Y’all! We saw two really hot guys coming out of the gym downstairs. For future reference they got off on the 5th floor.” Jessica propped her bare feet up on the table and sipped her overpriced Starbucks latte.

“Good lord what time did y’all get here? Did I let you in?” Claire was holding her head with one hand and searching for her cell phone and some ibuprofen with the other.

We proceeded to get the low down on which bars were and were not good places to pick up men. Evidently the karaoke bar was a solid bet. Alyssa had to share the details of the guy she had met there and apparently fucked in the bathroom. She liked those kinds of public encounters. I was on board with sex in a public place, but a bathroom? Closets, elevators, dark corners behind large tropical plants… sure. Bathrooms? No thanks.

“So y’all know I had to sing my favorite karaoke song our first night here in New Orleans.” Alyssa liked to sing “I Touch Myself” whenever there was a karaoke opportunity and more than three or four men were in the room. Whether or not she wanted to hook up with any of them, she got off on the power of writhing and twerking on stage for attention. She always gave quite a performance and usually at the very least she succeeded in getting one of the guys canlı bahis şirketaleri to buy us drinks. Sometimes it was a woman. Alyssa preferred men but was perfectly content to flirt with women. If she was so inclined, she would take one home every now and then.

Apparently the song was especially well received at this particular bar, and several men surrounded her and Claire as they left the stage after the performance. Alyssa had been center stage while Claire sang back up and they danced together. The sight of two blonde, large breasted women rubbing body parts against one another while singing “I Touch Myself” was pretty much a guarantee for some post-performance attention. The gamble was that dangling this particular hook in the water could catch something that they would really want to throw back. In this case, it had paid off.

Alyssa described the guy as bi-racial, tall and muscular. She said he spoke with an accent and she thinks he said he was from Ghana. She wasn’t sure where that was, but she didn’t care. He bought her a drink and they danced, and it wasn’t long before they were making out on the dance floor.

“Oh my God he had his hand in your pants before you even finished dancing!” Claire said with a twinge of jealousy. Evidently she had her eye on this guy first, but settled for his friend when it became obvious that he was into Alyssa. The two men had walked them back to the hotel room where they had drinks and eventually two of them had sex in a bed and the other two on the balcony.

“I know – it was hot!” Alyssa was in her element. “He was huge! You should have seen his cock! I may have a little trouble walking today” she threw her head back and laughed with satisfaction.

“So did he make you cum?” Jessica asked, knowing that Alyssa was usually pretty persistent about getting a guy to make that happen in any situation.

“Twice.” She winked at us and we all knew we would probably be having a similar conversation again tomorrow morning. I could see the gleam in Jessica’s eyes as she prepared to take notes and let Alyssa mentor her on the dos and don’ts of man hunting on Bourbon Street.

“Jessica, we’re going to find a man to make you orgasm and we are gonna do it before sundown.” We all laughed and started to plan our attack on Bourbon Street that would begin in about an hour. Alyssa and Claire likely still had a measurable blood alcohol level from the night before, so things should get interesting quickly.

Alyssa was dressed in all black as usual, and everything was tight and curve-hugging. She was well proportioned and very fit, and enjoyed showing off her 36 DD’s. She loaned Jessica her blouse and complimented the way it accentuated her cleavage. I wasn’t paying attention to their conversation but at some point Alyssa felt the need to feel Jessica’s breasts and they both giggled. I had chosen a flowy skirt for comfort, and they insisted on pointing out that would be easy access. Claire and I just rolled our eyes, laughed and hurried them out the door.

We were all feeling pretty good about ourselves, and we each did a shot of tequila before leaving the hotel room. When the elevator doors opened we were face to face with some older women who were dressed in typical tourist attire. They looked at us as if they knew exactly what our intentions were. I felt like we were oozing pheromones and may as well be wearing signs that said “we want to get laid”. But we didn’t care. New Orleans wasn’t exactly famous for church picnics and choir practice.

Several hours into drinking and bar hopping, we found ourselves on the balcony at a karaoke bar. This was a different one from the night before, and they took a lap around the place like a couple of wild animals spreading their scent. I caught the eye of the bartender and we both seemed to hold eye contact a little longer than normal. I was immediately attracted to him, but tried not to let it show. There were times when this find-a-man routine turned into sort of a competition, and I wasn’t interested in playing that game. I wanted to observe and quietly sip my drink. When the bartender handed me the glass there was something about the way he looked at me that made me blush. I nodded at him and put a dollar in the tip jar before turning around to watch my friends scoping out the scene. They literally looked like lions stalking wildebeest on the savanna.

We endured several really bad karaoke performances, but none of us felt quite like being on stage for the time being. We sipped our hurricanes and talked to the group of men who had bought them for us, and I could tell Alyssa had honed in on her target. This time it was a tall blonde who clearly thought he was god’s gift to women. Alyssa always went for the arrogant ones. Meanwhile a perfectly nice man was flirting with me, but his advances weren’t really lighting my fire. I listened to his stories about growing up in a small town in Texas, and accepted his compliments when he told canlı kaçak iddaa me I was beautiful. Having just gotten out of a relationship that nearly demolished my self esteem, I needed to hear it. It fell a little flat for some reason, even though he was attractive and ticked all the boxes. I could tell that Claire was clearly interested in this guy, so I knew if I extricated myself from the situation that she would take over. As luck would have it the conversation revealed that they shared a love for football, and soon they were knee deep in the subject. I was relieved to be free from his attention, especially on the subject of football. I would rather watch paint dry. I felt a warm hand on my arm and I turned to see the sexy bartender standing beside me.

“Hi, I’m Justin.” He said, his ice blue eyes nearly rendering me unable to speak.

“Bree, nice to meet you,” I nodded at him and he gently touched the back of my hand with his.

“Do you need a drink?” He nodded at the giant wall of liquor bottles that was lit up like every day was Mardis Gras.

“Oh – no. I just started drinking this one but thanks. You’re on the wrong side of the bar for serving drinks aren’t you?”

“Just finished my shift and wanted to meet you – thought maybe we could have a drink together.” I was immediately entranced by his broad shoulders and rugged, athletic build, and I found myself distracted by his mouth. His lips looked soft and inviting. There were all kinds of things I was already imagining doing with that mouth. But for now, I needed to use my own mouth to speak.

“Sure – we can do that.” I watched the other bartender hand him a beer, and he raised it to toast. We clinked our drinks and he asked me the usual get to know you questions. While we chatted I was keenly aware that there was something about him that generated electricity within me. His tattooed, muscular forearms were glistening with sweat, and I had to stop myself from touching them. He had a neatly trimmed beard that outlined his strong jaw and soft lips. His t-shirt hinted at the well toned chest underneath, and I could feel myself opening up my shoulders and leaning closer to him while he talked. My breasts seemed to want to point themselves directly at him, and I could feel myself wanting him to sense them. I guess I couldn’t make fun of my wildebeest stalking friends when my own animal instincts seemed to be taking over.

“Feel like dancing?” He asked, looking as if he didn’t want to be disappointed. In my head I thought ‘sure, if it means you’ll finally touch me’.

“Sure,” I said. I set my drink on the bar and asked Claire to watch it. Justin immediately stepped in.

“That’s not safe. Just forget that drink and I’ll get you another one after we’re done. You can’t trust people. Except me of course.” He smiled, took my hand and led me to the dance floor. The karaoke guy was taking a break so the music was pleasant and not so loud that we couldn’t talk while we danced. It felt refreshingly old fashioned; the two of us dancing like teenagers in a high school gym. We chatted for a while and gradually got closer to each other. A slow song played and he asked if he could pull me in closer. I found his politeness weirdly attractive.

Before I knew it his hands were clasped behind my back, our bodies fully pressed against one another, and I could feel his breath on my neck. It gave me chills. The music grew louder and the lights dimmed so that we grew less aware of the others around us. We gave up trying to talk to one another and instead just let our bodies move with the music. I could feel his muscular frame against me, and stretched out my back so that my breasts were pressed against him. He slowly moved his hands down my back and rested them very low on my back, slipping his thumbs under my shirt and into the waistband of my skirt. He ran his fingers over the edge of my thong and gave it a gentle tug.

We locked eyes and his lips immediately enveloped mine. As our kiss grew more passionate I felt his hand gently explore the area between my belly button and the fabric of my skirt. I could feel myself getting wet and wishing for that hand to explore lower; to lift up my skirt and just go for broke. But then I remembered we were on the dance floor surrounded by people.

As the energy in the bar began to shift from laid-back dive to techno dance club, I felt like we needed to relocate. I was about to suggest we go back out to the balcony when he took my hand. Justin seemed to be thinking what I was thinking. He lead me off the dance floor and out the side door, and we found ourselves on the street.

“I thought we could use some air,” he said. He never stopped touching me, and I liked that. He brushed the hair off my neck and leaned in to kiss me there. I felt a chill all over my body and a significant rise in the temperature of my entire pelvic region. He leaned into me and I could feel that he was hard. I glanced down for a moment and noticed the canlı kaçak bahis light catch something on his left hand. A ring. He was wearing a fucking wedding ring. I pushed him away and took his hand for a closer look, hoping it was a college ring.

“Oh my god.” I flung his hand away after realizing he was indeed wearing a wedding band. “What the fuck Justin?”

“I’m sorry – I thought you saw it when we first met?” He looked genuinely disappointed.

“I did not. I never would have started up with you if I had noticed you were married. I am such a sucker. I just assume people do the right thing and I always end up disappointed.” I leaned against the wall beside him and watched people walk through the street and onto the sidewalk.

I secretly wanted to do the wrong thing. Just once. Just be like the rest of them and say ‘fuck it’ and do something bad. Fucking a married man in New Orleans would certainly qualify.

“If it matters, we are separated. She doesn’t even live here. We are just waiting for out attorneys to work some shit out. I just wear the ring because my customers tend to tip more when they think I might have a family. But I don’t.”

I closed my eyes and tried to think a little more clearly. He could be full of shit. But he could be on the level. How the hell did I know?

“So you live here and she lives where?” I asked, realizing I really didn’t want to know anything more about the person connected to the ring.

“Georgia.” He said, and reached for my arm.

We didn’t talk for a moment as tourists passed by us on the sidewalk. I thought about how lonely I had been since my recent break up, and how much I needed and wanted to be touched. Justin had felt like exactly what I needed to remind me that I was still desirable. My head was a little light from that last drink, and I knew I was leaning toward the bad girl choice.

“Look – my loft is literally right across the street. You can tell your friends that’s where you are – text them a photo of my ID so they know you’re safe. We can talk for a while. Or, do whatever you want to do.” He slipped off the gold band and tucked it into his pocket. Then he ran his hand down my arm and gently held my fingers between his own thumb and forefinger.

“Okay I guess.” I said, unable to fight back a smile.

He obligingly took out his ID so I could text my friends for safety, including a photo of the entrance to his apartment.

He held my hand and we scampered across the street to his loft. I looked behind me as if I expected the gaze of anonymous, judgmental eyes. No one was paying attention to us, and the only judgement was coming from within. I decided I would leave it out on the street where it belonged. I was here to have fun and this felt like exactly that.

As soon as the door closed behind us I could not contain myself any longer and started to climb him like a cat in heat. Immediately his hands were under my skirt and grasping each cheek as I pushed against him. Just the pressure of my pussy against his leg was already more pleasure than I had experienced in months. I peeled his shirt off and was not disappointed by the physique underneath. Damn. While I enjoyed the view he was busy finding the zipper on my skirt and properly removing it. He grabbed me again, pulling me against him while he liberated my breasts from my bra, pulling it and my shirt over my head in one clumsy motion. We both laughed, and then he pulled me onto the couch on top of him.

The heat between my skin and his; my sweaty breasts and firm nipples pleasantly smashed against his tan muscular chest – I felt like I might burst into flames. He rolled me onto my back and guided my legs apart so that I was seated on the sofa. He slid to his knees before me and pushed against my knees a little, sensing that I was still a tiny bit nervous. I relaxed into him and spread my legs wider in anticipation. He ran his finger around my belly button, and traced a line down to my shaven pussy. I was glad that voice in my head had suggested I had take care of that this morning. I felt simultaneously hot and cold as I craved his touch, but also felt the exposure of my bare skin that had been hiding all night under a lace thong.

Just the slightest stroke of his finger below my navel made me shiver, and he finally placed those welcoming lips onto my body. What he had done with his finger he now did with his tongue; drawing lines in every direction as I spread my legs as wide as I could. He finally dove in with his tongue and reached under to lift me and control his angle. I felt him zero in on my clit with expert precision, and a tongue that pulsed as though it were battery operated. I could not stop myself from moaning; it had been so long.

This made him more eager and he lifted me up delivering even more intensity in the absolute right spot. I felt two fingers slide into me while his tongue continued its incredible work. I felt myself clawing the air for mercy as he thrust his fingers in and out focused completely on my pleasure. As much as I enjoyed that, I wanted him inside me. It had been a long time since I’d had a man inside me, and I wanted to be properly fucked. I gently grasped his hair and got him to make eye contact.

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