Fuck, she was a looker. Thigh-high boots, round ass, perky tits with her nipples poking out in the cool air, messy tousled hair. Fuck, her lips! When did she put on lipstick? Her pouty full lips were even puffier with bright Russian-red lipstick. My dick was standing up like a flagpole in my jeans.
She had the just-fucked look but somehow still managed to look like a nun. Except for her lips. No way could a nun have lips made to suck a dick!
I was still daydreaming about the girl’s lips around my dick when I felt a hard punch on my shoulder. “Introduce me!” Ana demanded.
I turned to the girl and gestured to Ana. “Emma, this is Ana. Ana, Emma.”
The girl smiled warmly and held out her right hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Tough Ana was taken aback. She was not used to civilized people. She looked bewilderedly back and forth between the girl’s outstretched hand and me. She turned a cold shoulder to me and sneered. “She’s too nice for you.”
Ana gave the girl a big hug and then hooked her arm through the girl’s to pull her away from me. I could hear her chiding the girl. “What are you doing with him? You can do a lot better.”
Right as they were walking away from me, Ana flipped her sassy head and stuck her tongue out at me.
Emma
Ana was so funny. She was talking to me as if we’ve been best friends for years. As we walked into the club, she was saying hi to half of the partygoers. Everyone seemed to know each other. Ana had an infectious personality and a wide, open smile. I could see why everyone knew her. Even with her abrasive words, you could never take offense because of the way she delivered it, as if it’s all a big joke.
It was very crowded and dark inside the club. Ana was in front of me, pulling my hand. I followed her through the maze of rooms and dance floors. We finally stopped in front of a group of frosted glass tables illuminated from the inside with different color lights. There were Pune-style, deep-cushioned benches along the long wall. Ana was talking very fast in Croatian to a group of her friends. I didn’t speak Croatian, but I got the gist she was telling everyone who I was. A few of her friends smiled and waved.
From Thousand-Year-Old Dream: The One
Rebecca Eyre 