What You Came For…

She’s staring at me. Lower lip between her teeth, thin sheen of sweat glistening on her face. Hair wild, tangled, sticking out in every direction as she runs her fingers through it for the hundredth time. She closes her eyes, opens her mouth, and a moan escapes her lips - or I expect a moan to escape her lips. I can’t hear a thing above this thumping, sternum-vibrating bass. The pulsing strobe flashes into my eyes again, blinding me momentarily. When I open them, I seek out her face in the heaving mass of bodies, grinding against one another, trying to derive as much sexual satisfaction from each other without actually having sex. I see her - eyes closed, a tiny smile tugging on her lips as she gyrates her hips, grinding her ass against the crotch of some faceless guy. Or rather some guy whose face I could care less about. I sigh softly and push through the crowd towards the bar. There’s a guy in my place - behind the girl I was dancing with before I can take 3 steps. I shake my head but i’m so thirsty, my throat feels like I half-swallowed a ball of cotton wool.

“One small Orijin” I say to one of the bargirls. “What?” I point to a guy next to me who’s holding a bottle of the drink i want. She slides the opened bottle to me and I drop bills on the counter. Unable to wait, I grab the bottle, relishing the chill on my sweaty palm. I throw my head back and take a long pull, wetting my parched mouth with the ice-cold liquid. I turn around, lean against the bar and watch the dance floor, my eyes wandering back to the corner I saw her last. Another couple is there now, grinding crotch-to-crotch, his hands gripping her ass like he’s kneading dough, the flesh spilling out between thumb and index. I sigh again. “Gimme Smirnoff.” a voice close by rings out like a song, the four syllables rising and falling like the cadence of a sonata.

And without looking, I know. I raise the bottle to my lips again, to hide the sheepish grin slowly spreading across my face. A couple of seconds pass and I hear the voice again, smooth like water, with that rising and falling tempo - the words unintelligible this time, and it’s all I can do to keep staring straight ahead. I feel her coming closer, covering the space between us, and I hear her voice startlingly close, my eyes still glued to the dance floor - looking, but registering nothing. “Looking for someone?” I turn my head slowly, casually, afraid to appear overeager. “Are you talking to me?” I asked with an eyebrow raised, even before my eyes reach her face.

Long, mussed-up afro. Eyebrows almost too thick to be on a female face. Straight nose. Black upper lip, blood red lower lip. Pointed chin. Long face. Large eyes…massive eyes…eyes I could fall headfirst into.

Eyes that now roll at me as she backs slowly onto the dance floor. Back under the strobe. Eyes that are an invitation as well as a challenge. I drop my half-empty bottle on the bar, my raging thirst all but forgotten and follow…slowly…another smile tugging at my lips even as I realize that she knows…that she’s always known.

The author is a content producer and SEO specialist at ZeeSaa. He also writes on the ZeeSaa blog. If you like this post, show it with a like. Thank You.