Always Want More

“You’re one lucky bastard,” said one of the guys, and I just nodded, looking over his shoulder at the girl with the long black hair.

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“Who, she? That’s Debra. She’s in Dave’s pic. She’s a dancer or something.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded.

“So listen, you and Sarah should come over for tacos next week.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” I said and put my hand on his shoulder as I excused myself. I made my way across the dancing crowd. The girl with the long black hair picked up a grape from the salad dish and put it gracefully between her lips. I slid the ring off my finger without taking my hand out of my pocket. “Excuse me, do you know whose party this is, by any chance?”

She was surprised, then she smiled a trained smile. This woman knows how to make a good first impression. “Yeah. Jeremy over there. Why, how did you get here?” She had the air of experienced youth and the innocence of somebody who thinks she is safe. I wondered about the taste of her skin and her fuck tricks. I wondered about the stories of her mother and her way to LA. I tried to imagine what face she makes when she reaches a sweaty, screamy climax.

“My buddies. I’m actually getting over a divorce and I don’t want to be out, but they said it’s good for me to be out and about, but I don’t know. So do you also work in film?”

She enchanted her smile a bit more and started playing with her hair. So the game was on again.

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