I’m having fun talking with another couple at the party, sipping at my second glass of wine. Your arm is around my waist, mindlessly rubbing the silky red fabric at my hip. They excuse themselves to get more drinks when you lean in and whisper in my ear,
“Come with me.” Your voice is husky, your hand slides from my waist to my hand as you start pulling me through the crowd towards the back of the large house.
“Where are we going?” I’m confused, what’s the rush? Instead of answering me you continue to lead me towards the less crowded section of the house towards the kitchen, pull me into the bathroom there and shut and lock the door.
“What are you doing?” You turn and look at me, I know that look in your eyes, it’s the same look you get every time you decide to pound me into the mattress. I also notice the bulge straining the zipper of your dress slacks.