by V. Murphy
“On the house!” she screamed over the loud and fairly obnoxious hip-hop music. Skye and I looked at each other and downed our Jell-O shots while Jayson grabbed Skye’s hand and headed towards the bar.
“I'm going to find myself a man, I'm going dancing!” I screamed at her pointing towards the dance floor. She just nodded, knowing that it was our silent agreement not to leave the club without each other.
I headed over to the dance floor to let all of my inhibitions go. At this point the music was incomprehensible. It was just a beat, a pulse in my body that pushed my body to move up and down shaking my hips with the beat. I made my way towards the middle grinding my hips up and down to no one in particular. I felt released in the middle of the most crowded club. My hands moved towards the air as I pulsed my hips to the left and right. I was waiting for my prey. I was an incredibly hot cheetah ready to pounce on its food for the night, attracting my prey through my sexual dance.
This is my first time dancing since the night at the Grove a couple weeks ago. I was never a very good dancer, but it was an outlet for me to just let go. I enjoyed it regardless of how ridiculous I may have looked. When I danced, I let go. Even though I was hesitant at first, I quickly got into the groove of the music. Gatsby’s never played a great selection of music and their dance floor wasn’t as crowded as the Grove. They played your typical overplayed music on the radio, but it would have to do for tonight. Tonight I was going to let go and finally get laid. I deserved it. I needed to shake both coffee shop guy from my head and the guy from the Grove.
I was only dancing with myself for seconds when a pair of large hands fell on the V where my hips started to fall down into my lower part. I felt the hands push my hips against an increasing bulge. I turned around to make sure this guy was worthy of my body. In the darkness, I saw a handsome face with black hair. The lighting at Gatsby’s was even darker than the Grove and it was hard to make any sort of facial appearance out, but I squinted hard to take a look at the guy who took over my body. He had fantastic looking lips and looked a little raw around the edges. He wasn’t kept up like most of the guys in the club. He looked older than most of the people here, but was still attractive enough. He shoved my face to point outwards again and he grabbed my hips and thrust them against the growing bulge in his jeans.
His body forced mine up and down with the beat of the music against the grainy texture of his jeans. I felt my dress slide upwards as his hands started to explore the inside of my skirt. I didn’t care. I wanted him. No, I didn’t want him. I wanted sex.
The alcohol was hitting my head hard and I wanted to escape. I was getting wet thinking about his bulge inside me. I needed sex. I wanted to fuck and I couldn’t wait. I turned around and placed my lips against his. I shoved my tongue into his mouth and kept thinking about how terrible he was at kissing, but I couldn’t think of anything except his hard dick that was now grinding up against my thigh.
He was a terrible dancer. Our movements were clumsy and awkward. He reeked of rabid desire as he pushed quickly against me. We didn’t dance to the beat, but instead were lost in our own world of lust. His hips just bounced unevenly against mine as if they were trying to keep up with the music. Everything about the whole situation was embarrassing to watch, but I didn’t care. I needed to escape. I desperately needed to get the thoughts of Ryder out of my head. I needed to convince myself that I only thought of him as someone I desired, nothing more.
His hands were now placed on my ass; as he grabbed it he shoved his tongue down my throat in short darting motions. Had I been sober, I would have realized this was the worst kissing I have ever encountered, but all I wanted in this moment was to fuck. I didn’t even really know what he looked like, but his bulge kept rubbing through his jeans against my thighs. His mouth was rough on mine. His tongue was ferociously darting inside and out. He kept pulling my head close to his as if he couldn’t get enough, he wanted more.
“Let’s go,” he growled and grabbed my wrist way too hard. I knew I should go find Skye and tell her I needed to go home, but I couldn’t get away and I wasn’t in the mental state to fight the hand that was now pinching into my skin. There was something wrong about this whole encounter. I suddenly felt a pit in my stomach and something told me to run away and scream for Skye, but the alcohol was already in my system and I just shook those feelings away. So, I followed this stranger into the back towards the bathroom.
He pushed the woman’s bathroom open and luckily there was no one inside. Once the bathroom door closed, he locked the door behind him. I noticed it was a single stall and was waiting for the inevitable drunk girls that would soon be banging obnoxiously on the door to use the bathroom. That would be my chance to get out. Using his fingers to grip my face, he pulled me to him and swallowed my entire face with his lips. His kiss was embarrassing and painful. His lips were dry and chapped as they oozed their way into my mouth. His tongue sent rapid darts in and out of my mouth and he licked my lips as if he were biting off the top of a Popsicle.
I wanted out.
He shoved his hands up my skirt and ripped off my underwear. I started to fumble around him, trying to navigate and get free without falling into the toilet or running into the sink, but he kept following me wherever I tried to go.
I was stuck.
His hands grasped my face so tightly I could feel the pressure from his fingers on my jaw. I thought at some point the small bones in my jaw were going to pop as he pushed himself deeper into my mouth. I turned my mouth to try to wiggle out of his forceful grip, but was confronted by a hand shoving me back towards him.
I was completely in shock now. I didn’t know what to do. At this point, I was honestly terrified. I knew what was about to come, but I didn’t know if there was anything I could do to stop it. Why did I have to be so desperate for sex that I succumbed to something like this? Why didn’t I take a better look at this guy on the dance floor? Those were the questions that kept repeating themselves over and over in my head.
“Where do you think you’re going young lady?” he growled at me as I suddenly snapped out of my drunken stupor and realized I had to get out before this escalated into something worse. There was a flight or fight response enacted in my core and I realized this was going to be more than just a friendly romp. I needed to find a way out of here before anything happened.
“I think I’m going to head out,” I said hesitantly and felt my voice falter through my fear.
He didn’t respond with words, but instead physically continued to grope me in the dim lighting of the bathroom. He was hungry for me but his hunger wasn’t filled with any sort of lust, rather a desperate desire to satisfy his needs.
He grabbed my breasts and shoved me against the back wall while fondling me. I was able to get a good look at him and forgot why I even started dancing with him. He face was old; he looked in his forties, which was abnormal for the crowd that usually frequented Gatsby’s. His hair wasn’t slicked back with hair product; instead, it just looked greasy as if he hadn’t showered in days. His eyes were set deep into his head and displayed sexual hunger. His lips were dry and cracked and he grunted as he thrust his hands around my body. I grabbed his neck and screamed, trying to get someone’s attention. I figured it was useless since Gatsby’s was throbbing with the loud music and even louder, the screaming drunk people.
Why wasn’t anyone going to the bathroom? I was desperate for someone to come and interrupt us so that I could use that to my advantage and get out. I was becoming frightened that I was going to not only lose my dignity tonight, but that I was going to be forced into something that I didn’t want to do. I know I said I wanted this earlier, but this was painful.
I was scared. I needed help.
I pushed him as hard as I could, but he had the advantage of height and strength. His hands shoved my arms against the wall and he pinned me upright against the toilet.
“No, no pretty lady, there is no going back now.”
I started to scream, bu
t then my body shut down. His hand shoved its way into my mouth and that is when I felt myself lose it. I felt familiar habits creep over me that shut my mind off and my body down. This felt so familiar, my body was moving through the motions. I should have expected that at some point this would happen to me. I was a slut, I deserved this…right?
I shut down completely, my mind was hazy and fuzzy from the alcohol. It felt numbing, my mind was slipping away from my body. I didn’t want to do this again. This numbness that slipped through my mind felt all too familiar. I couldn’t fall into these patterns again. I didn’t want to get hurt, but my body wouldn’t fight back. I was watching myself get raped from above. It was as if I was disconnected from my own body watching this happen, but not physically capable of doing anything to stop it.
He was shoving me against the wall while he began to unzip his pants, shoving his bulge against me. His thin boxer shorts were the only thing that kept me safe from his need. His breath was heavy with desire and he mumbled and grunted to himself. He was getting turned on by the fact I was fighting him so hard. It was almost as if this was a game for him, trying to win my satisfaction and give him what he wanted. Occasionally, he would let out a moan of ecstasy. I felt defeated and completely deflated at this point. I gave up on the fact that anyone was going to come to the bathroom. I let go, closing my eyes and blocking out anything that was about to happen, praying that afterwards I would be alive.
He was about to remove his boxers as he slowly grew closer and closer to me. Just as the tip of him was about to enter there was a change in the pace. It was slower than his previously hurried pace. I thought I heard footsteps through the loud music, but was convinced it was just a part of the song that was playing.
Suddenly, I heard a banging at the door and my eyes darted open. I was hoping that this would be my saving grace. I needed whoever was behind that door to come in and rescue me.
“Shit!” he mumbled and then shouted to whoever was at the door, “Kind of busy in here, come back in a second.” He moved away from me, pushing his boxers to the floor and stepping out of them. His hand was still over my chest forcing me into the corner.
The banging just got louder.
“I FUCKING SAID HOLD THE FUCK ON!” he screamed as he grabbed me harder and pushed his pants down. He was urgent to finish what he started and nothing was going to get in the way. I stood there silently hoping the guy knocking on the door wouldn’t get frightened and leave. I was limp and lifeless as I allowed this man to press against me.
The banging then started getting faster and the handle to the door started jiggling as if someone was trying to get in.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” shouted a voice from the other side of the door. It was the voice that snapped me completely out of the numb state my mind was in and I realized I had to get out, that someone was looking for me. Why else would a man want to get into the women’s bathroom? I thought maybe it was Jayson and Skye that came looking for me and checked the bathroom. I mustered all the courage and physical force I could and shoved the man towards the other side of the wall. He tripped on his own feet and landed right into the toilet. That’s when I opened the door.
The man on the other side of the door grabbed me and pushed me towards the side.
“Stay here,” he ordered and pointed to the side of the bathroom. He then proceeded to barge into the bathroom and started slamming the guy against the back of the porcelain toilet. He was screaming, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying over the crowd of people gathered near the bathroom. I looked inside and when I saw crimson red blood splattered against the white of the toilet, I started screaming. I opened my mouth to yell, but nothing came out. Tears started to pour down my face as I realized what had transpired a few moments before and what was happening now. Who is this stranger beating up the man that wanted to force himself on me? What was happening?
I couldn’t breathe. My throat was closing up on itself and the club started to appear smaller and smaller. The noises were turning into one big blur and my head started to scream at me as if there were little drums inside and someone was beating them dry. I looked around to see if I could spot the nearest exit. I needed to get out, I didn’t want to witness what was about to happen.
I ran down the hallway and saw a door to the right with a luminescent red EXIT sign on top of it. I pushed it open and was greeted by the fresh outside air. I took a deep breath in and allowed myself to fall against the building. The cold brick wall felt comforting against my skin as I slid down it and grabbed my knees. I hugged myself, pressing my legs tightly against my chest and tucked my chin on top of my knees. I just let myself go. I sucked in the air and started shaking as tears rolled down my face. I realized I left my phone inside the bathroom, but had no intention of walking back in there to find it or find Skye for that matter. I let myself cry for whatever I had left back in the club. It became more than that, I was crying because I was alone and miserable. Crying because I knew this was all my fault. It was me who wanted to have sex with anyone and it was me who put myself out there, willing to let a man have his way with me.
I cried because I hadn’t cried in three years. I cried because my past was finally catching up to my future and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t stop it or slow it down, I just had to face it and I wasn’t ready to. I didn’t want to.
I heard the door open next to me, but I didn’t even care who it was. I was too engrossed in emotion to care about anything but the tears that made their way down my face, the sobs that shook my body violently, and the fact that the wall I worked so hard to maintain was finally crumbling. If it was the stranger who wanted to come and get another go at me, I would let him.
“Shit, there you are. I told you to fucking wait at the wall.”
I looked up and the thoughts consuming me came to a halt. In fact, my heart--that seconds ago was heavy with emotion and sadness--stopped beating when I realized whom I was faced with.
It was dark, but the light over the door was bright enough to illuminate the face of the person who was standing above me. He was dressed in dark jeans with a micro-check black button down that had splatters of dark blood all over it. His deep black hair looked stark in comparison to his blue eyes. I knew this face. This was the face that accompanied my deepest sexual desires, as well as my thoughts for the last couple of weeks. This was the face of the guy at the coffee shop. Ryder. How in the hell did he find me here? How did he even know who I was?
I must have had a puzzled look on my face because he knelt down next to me and took his hand to lightly brush the tears off my face, “I think we should get you home.”
We? If I was confused at what transpired earlier tonight, I was at a complete loss for what was happening now.
“I'm sorry, but I was practically assaulted in the bathroom moments ago and now you expect me to allow a complete stranger take me home? Think twice buddy.” I knew it was bitchy, but he had no idea who I was nor the fact that I knew exactly who he was. He was just someone I wanted to fuck, so I don’t get why he was so invested in my emotional well-being.
“I saw your friend at the bar tonight, she came up to me and said she recognized me from Reggie’s, the coffee shop I work at. She said she had a hot friend who wanted to meet me and that I could find you on the dance floor. She showed me a picture of you on her phone and told me your name was Harper and I immediately knew who I was looking for. When I couldn’t find you on the dance floor, I got worried and checked the bathroom. That’s when I could hear a man grunting and figured something was happening inside.” He was facing me now, crouched on the ground with me as one of his hands grazed lovingly on top of my knees while the other rubbed the tears that kept falling off my face.
In a barely audible tone, voice low and deep he said, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I needed to know who you were. You’ve captured my every last thought. ”
He had been thinking about me? I paused for a second, taking in what he said. I didn’t kn
ow how to respond; I sat there frozen and numb. After a couple seconds, I realized I had to shake myself out of what I was feeling. This guy was someone I just lusted after; he was nothing else to me. He just so happened to be here when a creep came up and started molesting me. That is all. He could mean nothing more to me….ever.
I couldn’t stop crying at everything that was happening tonight. If tonight was any indication of how my life was going to go, I was completely fucked. My cheeks flushed red at the embarrassment that I was bawling my eyes out in front of a man who had been the center of my sexual desires for the last couple weeks. I cursed him because ultimately you could trace this all the way back to him. Because of the funk I was in these last weeks, I had wanted to let some steam off and get him out of my head leading me to go out in the first place. Now he was sitting right here in front of me, comforting me at a very low point in my life. Nothing made sense anymore. I just wanted to get out of here. All I was thinking about was the now…and right now all I wanted was to get the fuck out of this place.
I couldn’t speak, but through sobs I managed to utter the word “home.” Grabbing my hand gently, he lifted me up and led me towards his car.
“Wait, I need to go to my friend. I can't leave without her,” I hiccupped through tears.
“She already left with that guy she was with. She told me that I should take you home…or she assumed….” He didn’t finish his sentence, not wanting to insinuate that I was prepared to sleep with him or anyone. I knew that had I met him earlier in the night, I probably would have gone home with him. Who would have guessed I was going home with him, but not for a good time like one would assume. Even though I desperately lusted after him, after what occurred tonight I couldn’t imagine doing anything sexual. Luckily, it was a mutual understanding nothing other than a simple act of driving me home was going to come from any of this.