Following Him
It was late night at a nightclub on a Thursday, after an evening at the horse-races with clients. A way for the competitors to come together, they hosted a fun event to close out the summer. August in Texas is brutal and night-time brought zero relief to the sweltering heat of the summer. With thousands leaving the venue at the same time and plans not exactly organized, it felt chaotic and she was anxious to get out of there.
Hopping in her car, thankful to put the a/c on full blast directed at her body feeling sticky from humidity — she took off. 35 sales reps and advisors and one woman, her, were going to caravan in cars (uber didn’t exist in 2012) from the race-track to the Houston downtown clubs.
Her cell phone rang as she merged on the highway, another host asked if she had more room in her car, but she denied him and the other guys back at the parking lot since she was already well on her way. Plus, she’d just started chatting with the one other person in the car — the passenger beside her, and she didn’t feel like turning back.
It was random that he was with her, as he was one of the few guys there who she really didn’t know (other than suggesting to her own internal sales woman this new guy in the field might be the perfect hook up for her — same age, both Hispanic and single) but he had intentionally hopped in her car as everyone tried to figure out their plan to bounce. He had just been promoted into the outside part of the industry from his inside sales job a few months before…
Moving from boy to baller, she thought….
Although she barely remembered meeting him, he remembered her — from a conference a while back, where colleagues told him who she was. She was the sweet bubbly married girl — the one who everybody in the industry knew, the one off limits. the older one, though she didn’t look it. He figured he could get some wholesaling tips from the legend and planned to talk her up on the long ride.
He pleasantly found her to be so open, admitting to him in the car that she had recently finalized a divorce. He revealed that his almost-fiancee was soon moving out of the New York apartment they shared. She went on to chat about the clients, the industry trends, the pressure of being a newly single mom and still doing this crazy travel job, completely oblivious to his cock of girth hardening. He noticed her exposed thigh as she drove and as the words divorce came out of her lips, suddenly the chance of exploring her other set of lips became his focus, and he fantasized about reaching over and pulling her skirt up higher, her voice becoming noise as she talked on… and on…
She had been married and had usually dated before that the homogenous east coast typical white frat boy golfer types. Her background was full of John’s, Michael’s, Ryan’s and Brian’s. Though she had been working with the Luis’s, Pedro’s, Jesus’s, Francisco’s, and Fernando’s for years- it was only tonight she realized there was something to be said for this Latino vibe around her. Out of the corner of her eye she stole an extra long glance at this man while walking up after parking to wait with him outside to be walked into the VIP area of the late night hopping club. She stole an extra long sniff of a sweet masculine cologne coming off of him as well. Cologne? About all she had experienced of cologne in the past was Arrid X-tra Dry or Old Spice. Immediately escorted the back secret way upon hearing the name of the group they were with, he led her with his hand on the small of her back for a moment. Taking a deep breath, at 41, she walked inside her first real high end dance club into uncharted territory.
That night the hours went by as they raged in the VIP corner with clients, couches, Tito’s, Patron, tables of ice, limes and oranges. Beats pumped; spinning from top 40 to EDM, and Spanish hits from Mexico that everyone knew the words to except her. Sexy Latino barmaids brought a steady supply of thousand dollar bottles, and poured drinks while chatting up these high faultin’ hombres who threw down plenty of green attempting to impress these ladies. The dance floor was a sea of cougars in stilettos, what a joke she thought, so not her scene — especially amongst the plastic tits and ass around her. Que the ugh! and eye roll. Mixing her uppers and downers, she drowned the uncomfortableness in red bull and vodka until she found her inner charming self again. Getting her head back in the game, she finally out on the dance floor.
In her particular posse that night she was the lone wolfress, la Rubia Gringa amongst the financial sea of Mexican men and a handful of Central and South American men. She was used to it. Her success rested on her laurels and she had paid her dues with years and years of crushing sales living the road warrior life. She even won the coveted wholesaler of the year Rolex watch in 2008, while the global market was burning in hell. $500,000,000 in sales meant that she dwarfed her closest competitors by ten fold at least. Not only that, she birthed her third baby that year too! Newbies in the industry knew her as the legend, and both the sales side and their clients on the buy side referred to her as
— the Queen.
As the beats got louder, and brains started to spin in an unsteady haze, her world seemed to get smaller and more focused. The clients were having a blast, and she was giving everyone ample chat-up time, given that she was the only woman with her crew and she was a welcome asset.
He, hyper-aware and mindful of the bullshit some people were trying with her as she danced to another fast song, helped her escape those inappropriate advances standing body guard when needed, and dancing with her himself when he could steal a chance. At the same time when he was up in the VIP section while keeping an eye out for her and on her — he participated in tequila shots and sharing jokes with his new compadres; chilling and forming the beginning bonds of friendship.
Relationships — the most needed skill to be successful in sales, particularly with Latino hombres; family matters. Traditions lay deep. Culture is celebrated. Passion manifests fiercely. Emotions breed fuerte.
The night reached a point where any further social effort was for naught as the guys wouldn’t remember anything anyway. Clinks of glasses and pats on the back got blurry when she would think back to that night later on. Being able to dance the night away with no responsibility was a welcome reprise after ten months in hell. She’d been noticing how he danced throughout the night from afar, and now was this South American’s time to move in. She started to really focus, and with that, a switch flipped, naive no more, innocence lost. She was no longer off limits, and became, if you will,
-up for grabs, for the right chosen one.
She realized that the prospect of this not-quite boy, not-quite baller — but all man, might be what the universe wanted to feed her. She had standards and wasn’t about hooking up with clients or hook-ups in general. Suddenly he looked primal and she felt hunted. She realized that she was his prey. Her mind floated back to the thought that he had turned down the idea of meeting her assistant back on the east coast who she’d mentioned. It was at this point she realized that he never wanted the appetizer, he wanted the main course.
Mesmerized by the way he moved
Turned on by how he owned the dance floor
The magnetic heat from his face just a few inches from hers
Her body guided by his moves; she pressed on his as his on the small of her back held her close
Clients continued to throw back tequila while getting louder, more obnoxious, with hands getting more grabby as wedding rings disappeared into pockets in the VIP section as the gold diggers went shopping.
Quietly listening, thoughtfully learning, as he observed her as the hours rolled over that night, he realized just how much she really new about loyalty, branding, and long lasting, deep-seeded relationships…
Though he didn’t know it quite yet, she was ready to be ravaged and shown the ways of the Latino world by a Latino man who would love to bury his face and swim in ass. Though she didn’t know it quite yet, she was ready to be with someone who appreciated juicy ass- not just a white man who focuses on tits. Who wouldn’t want to be the young man reminding a hot white MILF that penetration can last more than six minutes? Who wouldn’t want to be the young man reminding a hot white MILF that there are men who can eat pussy for hours, and enjoy it? Yes! Who wouldn’t want the title of being the one to get with the Queen? The one who would be the envy of the young rookie guys in the field. It would be a coveted spot. And most likely, an on the low coveted spot shared solamente between the Queen and the Latino Lover. At least they both later hoped so, when fantasies became realities.
Looking at him curiously as they moved together- she was now hot for a man that could make this world vanish and bring her to presence.
It was time. He was in charge. He assessed the situation. The guys busy slurring egotistical stories over on the couches. Her, looking at his eyes and happily dancing away her worries. He reached over and took her wrist, then hand and whispered.
“Here, Come with me”
…She followed.
He guided her through the crowd…
He pressed her against a wall in a dark spot away from anyone that knew them. He was respectfully in control. He leaned in , touching his hand to her face, holding her back, owning her, owning them, forever in a bond.
The moment froze.
The world paused.
His mouth on hers, she accepting him.
Unconditionally accepting all of him.
She had no idea what she was in for.
And so it began
- and so they kissed….
For five years this month❤️
Originally Inspired by Terijo’s One Line Chalkboard Prompt “Follow”.
The plan was to start with …
“Here come with me” he said
— — she followed him.
But story is longer then one line 🙈😂❤️❤️ and just keeps going 💋
