by Magan Vernon
***
Once the song ended Wild Wes sauntered over to us with a lazy grin on his face. My face felt like it was completely flushed and it was hard to look at the him.
The British guy took to the mic once the crowd’s cheers died down. “Okay, now it’s time for our judges to give Wes, here, his scores.”
Pam took her lipstick and delicately put the tube to his abs as if she was afraid they would fall off if she touched them. She drew a small 8, practically on his side. Abbi was next and drew a 7. Then he took a step closer to me, leaning over and whispering in my ear, “Whatcha got for me, darlin’?”
My eyes trailed from his and then down to his abs. I had to be brave. I wasn’t a shy girl, but I also didn’t get attention from men unless they were expecting me to put out. Which I did a lot of in college. More than I’d like to think about. Of course a guy would screw the big girl, but that’s usually all I got. I didn’t get serious boyfriends. And I highly doubted Mr. Abs was gonna put a ring on my finger either. But I did have to give the crowd what they wanted and he was a good performer.
I dipped my fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled him closer. I tried to ignore how completely manscaped he was, but my pinky did happen to graze his smooth skin and I clenched thinking how bad I wanted to go lower.
With my free hand I traced the line from his pecs and down the middle of his abs. There was nothing Photoshopped about him. He was all muscle. I involuntarily mouthed the words “Oh my God,” once my fingertips felt his chiseled six pack underneath my fingertips. I didn’t mean to say it, but my brain obviously wasn’t thinking. I was surprised by how soft his skin was beneath my hand and I may have let my fingers trail a little longer than I should have, but the guy was a work of art that deserved to be admired.
“Now, baby girl, don’t be teasing me or we won’t make it to the final judging round,” His words flowed like honey from his lips and into my ear.
“Just trying to keep up the show,” I said before I took my tube of lipstick and slowly wrote a big ‘10’ smack dab in the middle of his abs.
The crowd cheered and the British guy said something into the microphone, but my attention was still firmly on Wes and his eyes that stared into me as if there was no one else in the room.
“Thanks for that, darlin’”
“No, thank you for that performance.”
***