book-cover
The Proposal
Irenosen Akharele
Irenosen Akharele
a year ago

 

 

 

The night started off with a promise of something good; drugs, drinks and a lot of romance. Well, depending on what romance meant to you. To her, romance was the man she was head over heels for, pulling her into him by her waist and grounding her with himself when the cigarettes gave her a buzz and letting her kiss him in the middle of the street after introducing her to the most dangerous guys in the area as his babe. His babe.


Her chest swirled with a certain kind of giddy warmth that she had not felt in ages, one that she wanted to bottle in a jar and place away for when the bad days came.


He first fed her a pink pill and a kiss, giving some warnings but not enough, and then he took her to get a few more drugs. A woman sat slyly atop a wooden contraption resembling a table, thin wrapper covering her legs as she asked for just one puff of weed. Even in the darkness she could see there was no semblance of life in this woman’s eyes, just the way she had given herself over to the drugs and these men and it caused a small shiver to remind her that all of this was youthful fun and she couldn’t allow all of these to really mess up her life.


All of it was soon forgotten when he kissed her cheek and they found their way back home.


The room was cool and sheltered by a low thrum of red light when they entered back in and she found herself back to a bottle of sweet red wine, lustful and sultry much like her. He preferred the roughness of gin, its strong and almost overwhelming taste taking over his taste buds. That was what he was; roughened by his own design and selfish with everything, making sure to enjoy all of it, the good, the bitter and the downright sinful.


The molly had started to hit, considering that they had just shared half of another pink skull and some more wine and gin, so they escaped to the bathroom for a smoke break.


Now he was a pro at this; he had gotten fucked up on far too many things to know just how a single puff of weed could intensify a cigarette buzz, but she had no idea.


Her teeth gnashed against each other and she rocked violently between his thick body and the cold hard tile, floors threatening to disintegrate just so she could be one of them too.


“That’s it, yeah.” He nodded, his eyes not looking away from hers even once. “Do you feel it? That’s the molly hitting.”


She heard him speak, but her eyes were fogged over in confusion and lust. She was greedy that way, looking for the best ways to use intoxicants to satisfy the extent of what her body wanted.


“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked knowingly after she had done some incoherent babbling about how intense it all felt.


She nodded, yes please.


His fingers found her clit and he began to rub up and down and then in circles, lighting up his cig with ease. “You like that, yes?”


“Oh, god yes.” She agreed, because in this position he could say no wrong.

 

“Which reminds me, I haven’t actually, officially asked you to be my girlfriend.”


She shook her head and let out a breathy laugh “Yes?” Was he really doing this right now?

 

“Well then, this might be a little weird but,” He slid two fingers inside her and her vision blurred for the slightest second. She looked back up at him to find him smiling down at her with that full-lipped, perfectly curved smile that never seemed to stop sweeping her off her feet, cigarette burning at the edge of his mouth as he cocked his head to the side.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”


She had asked for a lot in her lifetime, and she also simultaneously hadn’t, but she knew that whatever it was that He was doing to her with his practiced rizz and dramatics, she had particularly wished upon several shooting stars for.


“Yes” she giggled, breathless from being fingerfucked by this massive hunk of stupid, sexy man.


“Are you sure about this? I’m a fucked-up guy oh.” It was a warning but he smiled and she smiled too. He was creating the kind of environment she had craved all her life. Maybe it wasn’t time yet but she could see him doing his all for her, and she saw herself doing the same.


“I can handle it.” She promised, and she could tell that he believed her, trusted her even. He would never come to know this, but she did too, a lot more than she wanted to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



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