[MF] Tempted by an older guy I ran into at a party

I’m a 21 year old law student. I go to law school far away from the state where I went to college and grew up. This means I’m away from my boyfriend, who is my age but still in my home state. The last time I saw him was in the summer, which was a few months ago. I was a bit of a late bloomer because I grew up in a very religious (and Asian) household, so he’s the only guy I’ve ever kissed or had sex with. We’ve been long distance for much of our relationship because of COVID and other reasons, which is horrible because, well…a girl got needs. It’s also a problem because my boyfriend can be really immature or inconsiderate, causing some fights and drama which are only made worse by the distance.

Anyway, one time when we were in one of these fights, my law school threw a party at a local bar. The invite said it was cocktail attire, so I put on a little silk shirt I borrowed from a friend and some black pants. It’s freezing outside, so I was in no mood to wear a dress. But once I show up at the dinky little basement, I feel woefully underdressed. All the other girls are walking around in tiny strappy mini dresses, while the guys are all in basically full suits.

The only way to fix how out of my depth I felt was to drink. My friends and I head to the bar, picking up the last of the drinks and chugging down the watery vodka concoction. Somehow the bar tab has already run out, even though we’re only 20 minutes into the event. I’m not really surprised, considering it’s a room full of stressed law students… but come on. Save some for the rest of us.

We get onto the dance floor, but the DJ is playing something lame and everyone seems to be just standing around talking. I’m contemplating what I’m doing there until “I Knew You Were Trouble” by Taylor Swift starts playing. Little did I know, this song is foreshadowing. The mood drastically shifts, and soon my friends and I are dancing our little hearts out right there on the sticky floor, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs.

While I’m in the midst of writhing around like a deranged worm, I catch sight of this guy Paul a few feet away from me. I met him during orientation, but haven’t really seen him since. I’ve always thought he was hot, kind of in that lawyer-from-a-TV-show way. He’s a lot older than me, like maybe 29 or 30, and I found him really intelligent and confident. I don’t know if it’s because all I’ve ever known is a guy my age, but the fact that he was older really intrigued me. Tonight, he is dressed to the nines in a navy blue blazer and matching pants, and his dirty blonde hair is perfectly styled. He raises an eyebrow at me and waves, and I wave back before going back to my dancing, thinking that was all the interaction we were going to have. Back to deranged worm mode.

Out of the corner of my eyes, though, I catch him looking at me throughout the song. His eyes are really dark, almost to the point of being black, and it gives him a mysterious vibe. As cliche as it sounds, I feel like his gaze was piercing through my soul. I shyly look back at him and smile at him again, and this seems to give him some sort of cue because then I see him shouldering his way through the crowd and coming towards me.

“Hey, Bella,” he gently brushes my arm with his hand, “How are you?”

I greet him back, moving slightly away from my friends to avoid getting in the way of their dancing. My arm feels tingly where he touched it. We have to lean in to be heard over the thumping music. “You look…really great,” he says in my ear, his dark eyes scanning slowly over the outfit I’d feared was plain earlier. He kind of lingers over my chest, where I’ve unbuttoned enough buttons for my lacy black bra to show underneath, before staring into my eyes again. All of a sudden, despite the chill in the bar, I felt like my body was on fire. My boyfriend had never really ever looked at me like I was a scared little deer and he was the big bad wolf, so this was all very new to me.

I take that as an invitation to look him over as well. His suit hugs his lean, strong body and his confident smile looks even more charming up close. “You look good, too,” is all I can say in that moment. He thanks me, and there’s a sparkle in his dark, dark eyes that I can’t quite take my eyes off of. Luckily (or unluckily), he can’t take his eyes off of me either. We distractedly talk about the bar tab running out. He pulls his ticket for a free drink out of his suit pocket and gives it to me, since he doesn’t drink.

Unfortunately, one of his friends pulls him away, breaking the tension, but he manages to squeeze in a wink and an invite to his friends’ afterparty after I was done dancing. I head back to my friends, where they’ve also independently decided that we were going to the same afterparty in about half an hour.

I knew I was in trouble. I was tipsy and headed to an afterparty where I’d see the most gorgeous man I’d seen in a hot second. I hadn’t gotten laid in months and I was still pissed at my boyfriend. I didn’t know what to do or how I’d manage to control myself, so the only solution in my mind was to get some more alcohol in my system.

30 minutes later, like we planned, we start heading to the afterparty. At that point, I’d had enough drinks to be pretty heavily tipsy. Paul hasn’t showed up yet, causing me to breathe a huge sigh of relief. I start a friendly conversation with a guy from my section and some other girls in a corner of the room, but we’ve barely even started before Paul walks in, his blazer slung over his arm and wearing a black, long sleeved shirt unbuttoned slightly. One look at him and I can hardly breathe.

He smirks at me, as if he knows what he’s done to me, and joins our conversation. Complaints about the Erie Doctrine, our legal memo due Thursday, and breach of contract remedies all float away as I stare at him. My head is fuzzy from the whiskey and I can’t look at anything except the way his lips move when he talks and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“Bella,” I hear my name again. It’s Paul. I look around, back to reality, and notice that everyone else has left the corner we were standing in, dispersing to have other conversations. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“You changed your shirt,” I blurt out the first thing I can think of.

“Yeah, I did.” He shoots me another dangerous smile, his gaze lingering on my lips. It’s not at all loud in the apartment, but we are standing just as close as we did in the club. I’m leaning on a counter, and he’s towering over me. My mind goes crazy, imagining him pushing his hand onto my throat and pinning me against the wall. I imagine him closing that gap between us and feeling his soft, full-looking lips on mine. I imagined running my hands all over his beautiful body. The way he looked at me made me so wet that I knew I was soaking through the flimsy, lacy underwear I had on under my dress pants. I wanted him so fucking bad I felt weak in the knees. It took every single bit of willpower I had in my intoxicated body not to grab him and ask him to have his way with me right there against the wall in front of everyone.

“So, what area of law do you want to practice in?”

“What?” I stare up at him in shock, my sordid thoughts still clouding my brain.

“I want to do criminal defense,” he explains, that distracting twinkle still in his eyes. There’s no way he doesn’t know he’s being a fucking tease. “Do you know what kind you want to do? It’s okay if you’re still deciding.”

“Uh…yeah I’m not really sure.” The conversation pivots, and I’m left confused, but still wet. I find myself not really paying attention to what he’s saying, just staring again at his lips moving when he talks. He kind of smirks when I give him my lackluster responses in a sorry attempt to have a normal conversation.

“Alright, I need to go,” he says after about 30 more minutes of idle chatting about law school and jobs, “I gotta go home and rest.”

“Okay,” I nod, half in relief and half in disappointment, “See you around. Nice talking to you.”

“Yeah.” He reaches his arms out for a hug. He pulls me in, and I can feel every single inch of his body against mine. I had no idea how I didn’t smell it before, but he smells fucking sexy, like designer cologne or something. That smell almost does me in. All of a sudden I’m really horny again. I open my mouth to ask him if he wants to come back to my place instead, but my tipsy, lust-fueled brain still has the decency to say, “Drive safe,” instead. He gives me one last knowing grin and walks out the door.

I took off all my clothes as soon as I got back to my apartment. I was still soaked from earlier that night. I called my boyfriend to try and take out all of my sexual frustration on him. He came, I didn’t, which was remarkable given how worked up I was. I hung up and went to bed. I guess he’ll never know what I gave up so I could have that lackluster phone sex with him that night.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/qvpgdc/mf_tempted_by_an_older_guy_i_ran_into_at_a_party