“Maybe if you serviced your man right he wouldn’t be dipping into other ponds, bitch.” Cue laughing man again. The bitch turns and gives a death glare at laughing man then turns to me with a raised hand. She isn’t fast enough though and I catch her hand mid-slap. I squeeze her hand so hard she yells out in pain.
I step closer to her and I smell her overwhelming perfume as I whisper in her ear, “Do you want to play with me, pretty girl? I’m pretty sure I could make you come ten times harder than footy boy in there could.” She flushes at my comment and turns her head away from me. She doesn’t say anything else while standing there, so I decide to leave. It’s time for me to have some more fun tonight.
As I walk out to the dance floor, I see a girl who looks vaguely familiar. She smiles and I walk over to her. With a drink in one hand I stand in front of her swaying my hips. She joins along easily and soon we are bumping and grinding on the dance floor. Women aren’t usually my thing, but sometimes I do like to play. I really prefer the hardness of a cock, but a woman’s tongue is something that can make you scream.
One of my legs is positioned between hers as we dance. She’s rubbing herself on me, taking great joy in the friction. I stop moving when I feel eyes on me. It doesn’t deter my drunken friend though as she takes it to another level and palms my breasts. We now have an audience building. Men stop to watch and some palm their cocks with their hands.
But I can still feel eyes on me.
I turn looking for the source of those eyes and I’m met with laughing man’s face looking directly at me with the stare from earlier. One I can’t quite work out, but one I intend to decipher as I pull myself from the blonde who’s fondling my breast.
I make my way over to him, keeping him in my line of vision. His eyes penetrate me and rake over my body from top to bottom. Just as I begin to close the distance between us, my arm gets pulled and I’m jolted backward. I turn away from those eyes and stare at a girl who should not be placing her hands on my body at all.
It’s the girlfriend or fiancée, whichever one I don’t really care. She goes to throw a punch to my face and she has an audience. I duck her punch and stand behind her. I kick her knees in and watch as she topples to the floor. People start laughing around us and I turn looking for those eyes, noticing he’s gone and so has my mood.
During the second half of a child's first year, the prefrontal cortex, the seat of forethought and logic, forms synapses at such a rate that it consumes twice as much energy as an adult’s brain.
I want to bang my head on this desk or slit my wrists. Either one I’m contemplating at the moment. How can one class be so boring? Is it really necessary? We are studying criminology, not math problems. All I can see is my professor, who is dribbling shit at the front of the classroom, to which no one is paying any attention. Some are on their cells and others are flirting with each other. Me, well I’m sitting at the front of the class by myself contemplating suicide.
Five minutes left till we can leave and the professor introduces a detective that can help us with our case studies. I don’t look up and instead continue to study my book. I’m trying to work out how to solve a math problem when someone steps in front of my desk. I slowly rake my eyes upwards and I’m met with a man in a clean-cut black suit with no jacket and a badge attached to his pants. I move my eyes up further and looking back at me is the man that was at my apartment a few nights ago. He’s standing in front of me with a weird look on his face. A look I can’t figure out. I don’t know whether to avert my eyes or just take him in. He looks at me one last time before he winks and walks back to the front of the class and our professor introduces him.
“Detective Black is here to help answer any questions you might have for your case study.” My eyes gaze up at his name and a shiver takes hold of my body. I don’t know why a complete stranger has such an effect on me and to be honest I don’t want to know why.
Hands are raised automatically as soon as our professor steps back and Detective Black takes charge. You can tell by looking at him that he’s a man of authority. It oozes out of him. You can feel the air shift when he’s near you. Your back straightens like you have to be on your best behavior. I listen to his voice while each person takes their turn asking numerous questions and scenarios as to what would happen and how it could happen. I get so lost just listening and I just sink into my chair.
My mind is in overdrive with the numerous questions from the students about murderers¸ rapists and even car accidents.