The Beauty I Met at Party

I am not talented. For years, I drifted through jobs in unfamiliar cities, performing repetitive tasks that left my mind numb. The fluorescent lights of cramped offices, the stale coffee breaks, the clock ticking slower each day--it all blurred into a gray haze. By the time I transferred to that coastal city, restlessness gnawed at me. Routine had become a cage. I craved distraction, chaos, anything to feel alive. That's when the party happened.

Valerie stood near the bar, her silhouette cutting through the room's dimness like a blade. Her face was sharp yet soft--high cheekbones balanced by a rounded jaw, skin pale and smooth as porcelain. Thick, jet-black hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, framing almond-shaped eyes that glinted amber under the lights. Her lips were full, painted deep red, slightly parted as she laughed. A slender neck led to collarbones that jutted delicately above the neckline of her dress.

The dress clung to her like liquid--silk, black, strapless. The V-neck plunged steeply, exposing the smooth valley between her breasts down to her navel. The fabric cupped her chest just enough to hide her nipples, but the sides left nothing to imagination, revealing the curves of her breasts as she moved. Her waist dipped inward sharply, a narrow hourglass above hips that flared with soft, inviting fullness. The back of the dress dropped entirely, bare skin exposed from her shoulders to the dimples above her ass. A single thin strap crossed her shoulderblades, as fragile as a thread.

The skirt slithered around her legs, split high up one thigh. With every step, the slit gaped open, exposing her entire leg--toned calves, the taut swell of her thighs, skin gleaming as if oiled. She wore no stockings. Strappy stilettos elongated her legs, the heels thin and cruel. When she turned, the dress tightened across her ass, outlining its shape before the fabric spilled again into the slit. The scent of jasmine and sweat trailed her.

The room felt hotter when she moved. My throat dried. My pulse hammered. I couldn't look away. I thought if I could have one night with her, I could die without regret. However, she had a boyfriend.

My lingering gaze must have left an impression on her. Over the following months, we coincidentally crossed paths several times and gradually grew acquainted. However, I remained cautious and never broached romantic topics.

One day, the phone buzzed against my desk like an angry hornet. Valerie's name flashed on the screen. I answered.

"There's a party tonight," she said, her voice syrup-slow. "Come. I'll introduce you to people."

I didn't ask questions. Didn't need to. When Valerie called, you moved.

---

The loft was all exposed brick and sweat-slick bodies. Music thumped through the floor. I stood near the entrance, beer sweating in my hand. Valerie found me first.

She wore a red dress. Strapless. The neckline plunged to her navel, held together by a single clasp between her breasts. The fabric clung to her waist before flaring over her hips. Her back was bare down to the dimples above her ass. The skirt stopped mid-thigh, slit rising higher on her left leg with every step. Her heels were thin, black, deadly.

Her friends clustered around a marble counter. Two women, one man. The blonde wore a silver sequined tube dress, cut so low her nipples threatened to escape. The brunette had on a leather corset, laces straining over her chest, paired with fishnets and stilettos. The man was forgettable--collared shirt, bored smirk.

Valerie looped her arm through mine. "This is him," she announced.

The blonde eyed me. "Cute."

"He's shy," Valerie said, squeezing my bicep. "Be nice."

They weren't.

I drank. Vodka tonics, whiskey shots, whatever someone handed me. The room blurred at the edges. Valerie's friends talked over my head--work gossip, vacation plans, a name-dropped restaurant.

The blonde leaned across the counter for more wine. Her cleavage yawned open. I stared. The brunette adjusted her corset, ass jutting toward me as she laughed. I stared harder.

Valerie caught me.

"Thirsty?" She slid a fresh drink toward me, eyebrow arched.

I gulped it. Burned my throat.

Midnight. My legs were rubber. I slumped on a leather couch, head swimming. Valerie's laugh cut through the haze.

"You're a mess," she said, but her hand was on my back, warm through my shirt.

Her friends arrived.

"Need help?" The blonde smirked.

"I've got him." Valerie's grip tightened.

"Sure you do."

They left.

Cold air hit us like a slap. Valerie half-dragged me down the sidewalk. Taxis sped past, ignoring her wave.

"Fuck," she muttered.

I leaned into her. Her breast pressed against my arm, soft and heavy. My cheek brushed her shoulder. The top of her dress gaped--I saw the curve of her nipple, pale pink in the streetlight.

She stiffened. "Eyes up."

I didn't listen.

The hotel was a gray slab two blocks away. I stumbled, pulling her with me.

"Stop." She shoved at my chest.

I gripped her waist, fingers digging into bare skin. She smelled like vanilla and vodka.

"Let go of me."

I didn't.

Her resistance lasted three breaths. Then she went slack.

"Fine." Her voice was ice. "But you're paying."

Given my mental state at the time, I ended up booking a room. When the door closed behind us, I pulled her close, my voice low and unsteady. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," I murmured, my lips brushing her ear. Her breath hitched as my hands trailed from the small of her back to her hips, lingering there before grazing lower, just enough to feel her shiver.

She tilted her head, her words slurred but playful. "You're... trouble." Her laughter dissolved into a gasp when I pressed my forehead to hers, our noses almost touching. The scent of her perfume--something sharp and floral--mixed with the whiskey on her breath.

I don't know who moved first. One moment we were standing, tense and teetering; the next, the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and we collapsed into the sheets. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me down as our mouths crashed together. The kiss was messy, desperate--all teeth and heat and stifled moans. She tasted like salt and champagne, and when I bit her lower lip, she arched against me, a ragged "God..." escaping her throat.

My hands trembled as I tugged at the hem of her dress. "Let me," I growled, more a plea than a demand. She nodded, her eyes half-lidded, and whispered something incoherent--my name, maybe--before kissing me again, slower this time, her tongue tracing mine.

When I unhooked her bra, her full breasts spilled into my hands, soft and warm. The sight of them--pale in the dim light, nipples peaked and flushed a delicate pink--sent a jolt of heat through me. My breath caught. God, she's perfect. I cupped their weight, thumbs brushing over her taut peaks, and felt her shudder against me. Her head fell back with a gasp, fingers digging into my shoulders. "Don't stop," she breathed, voice frayed at the edges.

I didn't. I bent to take one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder when her hips jerked upward. Her moan was low, almost a whimper, and her hands fisted in my hair, holding me there. My free hand slid down her stomach, past the curve of her hip, and hooked into the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips instinctively, letting me tug them off.

Beneath me, she was already wet--slick and swollen, her thighs trembling when I traced a finger along her slit. "You're... so..." she started, but the words dissolved into a choked cry as I pressed my thumb against her clit. Her back arched, breasts heaving, and she rocked into my touch like she'd been waiting for this all night.

At this moment, Valerie moaned faintly, her other hand wandering to her untouched breast. She pinched the pink nipple there, twisting it gently between her fingers as her hips rolled against mine. Her breath hitched--a sharp, needy sound--and I felt her thighs tighten around me. "You're... too slow," she teased, her voice husky, but the way she said it was less a complaint and more a dare.

Her free hand slid between us, fingers closing around my hardness through the fabric of my jeans. I groaned, my forehead dropping to her collarbone as she stroked me in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Valerie--" I started, but she cut me off with a kiss, her tongue sweeping into my mouth like she was claiming the words before I could speak them.

Her touch grew bolder, fingers deftly undoing my belt, and when her palm finally met bare skin, I nearly lost myself. She broke the kiss, her lips swollen and glistening. I could feel her wetness against my thigh, the slick heat of her grinding into me.

"Let me show you something you'll love," I murmured against her skin, trailing kisses down her sternum, past the soft curve of her stomach. At her navel, I paused--there, a faint dusting of hair, barely noticeable, caught the light. My lips followed the path lower, and I found a neatly trimmed triangle of curls, delicate as lace.

Her scent hit me first--musky and sweet, like ripe peaches under summer sun. Clean, yes, but unmistakably her. I pressed my face into her wet, breathing her in, before my tongue flicked lightly over her folds. She gasped, her hips jerking off the mattress. "Oh God--" Her hand fisted in my hair, not guiding, just holding, as if she needed an anchor.

I took my time, teasing the swollen bud of her clit with slow circles until her thighs trembled. When I finally slipped my tongue deeper, she cried out, her back arching. "Fuck... yes..." The words spilled from her in a broken chant. Her other hand clutched the sheets, knuckles white, but her hips rolled against my mouth, desperate and unsteady.

My tongue curled inside. "I shouldn't--" she started, but the protest died as I sucked gently, her thighs clamping around my ears. Her climax hit like a storm, a sob tearing from her throat as she ground against me, wet and relentless, until she collapsed, boneless and shaking.

She lay breathless beneath me, her chest still heaving, eyes glazed but sharpening now--sobering. Guilt flickered across her face like a shadow. I need to act before she thinks too hard.

I didn't waste time. She gasped as I slid my cock into her, her eyes widening--not with fear, but a kind of startled surrender. Her hands flew to my chest, fingers splaying over my chest, trying to push me away, "Hey... Ah... Stop." But it was weak attempt.

I didn't stopped and moved my hips. The rhythm began slowly, almost tentative. Her breath hitched with every thrust, her hips lifting to meet mine in a way that felt like permission. I could feel her tightness, the heat of her wet pussy clenching around me, and it took every shred of self-control not to lose myself immediately.

"Wait--" she started, her voice frayed, but I silenced her with kiss, biting gently at her lower lip, she melted. Her arms looped around my back, pulling me closer, as if her body had decided what her mind still debated. Her nails dug into my shoulders, a sharp counterpoint to the softness of her mouth. When I pulled back, her pupils were blown wide, lips swollen.

"Look at me," I demanded, and she did--her gaze locked onto mine as I moved. There was guilt there, yes, but also a hunger that mirrored my own. Her legs tightened around my waist, urging me deeper.

"Can you... finish it quickly?" she whispered, a plea tangled in shame.

I nodded, my rhythm quickening. Her back arched off the bed, breasts swaying with each snap of my hips. She bit down on her fist to stifle her moan, but they leaked out anyway--soft, broken sounds that turned me on too much.

Her climax hit suddenly. She stiffened, a choked "Oh God--" escaping her as her body clenched around me, wave after wave, until she collapsed back onto the sheets, trembling.

Suppressing the feeling of orgasam, I told her after she recovered to get into another position.

I pushed her onto her knees, she arched her back without prompting, her ass raised, her thighs parted. The sight of her--pale skin glowing in the dim light, wetness glistening between her legs--made my throat tighten. I entered her from behind, and she gasped, her fingers clawing at the sheets. Abandoning the guilty now, she demanded harder.

We moved in sync, her hips rolling back to meet every thrust. The room filled with the sound of skin against skin, her moans crescendoing with each snap of my hips. "Don't... stop..." she panted, her body trembling.

However, I'm at my limit, "I'm going to cum," I said as I began to move faster.

She stiffened. "Wait--pull out," she breathed, her voice frayed. "Not inside me. Please."

I tried. God, I tried. But her body clenched around me, a vise of heat and pressure, and I lost myself. "Valerie, I'm--" The warning came too late. I spilled into her with a groan, my hands gripping her hips as she shuddered beneath me.

For a heartbeat, there was only silence.

Then she collapsed forward, her face buried in the mattress. When she turned to look at me, I thought she would be angry but she isn't. She closed her eyes, and hugged me. She put her legs over my thighs, "Let's sleep."

I didn't understand her, but decided to sleep since I'm tired.

I didn't know until the next day that Valerie had felt strongly about me since we first met. But we didn't work in the same place or unit, so there was no chance for us--neither of us expected things to go this far today. Not to mention, next year she was getting married with her boyfriend.

The next morning, we did it again. This time, she warned me: "Don't... come inside me this time. It's a risky day, and I'm not on the pill." But in the heat of the moment, I couldn't stop myself.

"Valerie, I'm--"

"You did it again!" she snapped, pushing me away. "What if--?"

I tried to talk about a future together, but she cut me off. "There's no future here. My marriage to him was arranged from birth. We're getting married next year, and I can't back out now."

She did had choice to cancel this marriage, since it was arranged with her permission. Her parents and boyfriend asked her many times, and she had no problem with it, since her boyfriend was rich and handsome. So now she couldn't break off the marriage, and she didn't want as well.

She told me that, I'm a good person and she like me, and what happened between us was because she thinks that she have mental problem, since she had loving boyfriend, but still cheated on him.

However, she didn't want things to end with me, so we became friends with benefits. I always used condoms... until a month before her wedding. One night, I didn't. She noticed but didn't stop me. "Just hurry, I'm dying to have you," She said. I cum inside her that day, and she never said a word about it.

After that, I stopped using protection entirely. She never protested, even when I finished inside her. Now, I'll never know if her first child is mine or her husband's. She moved away, and I have no way to contact her. If, I had used protection then she might not cut off her contact with me, or she would? I don't know, and it left me confused but what I know is that, this year was wonderful year for me.