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Few social gatherings promote bonding experiences more efficiently than karaoke night. That evening, due to a rare confluence of high self-esteem and busy friends, I decided to venture into the unknown. By unknown, of course, I mean gonna my usual karaoke bar, only without my regular group. Do give me a break, I may look like a social butterfly over the next few paragraphs, but my history is mostly one of sullen loneliness – the familiar environment helps me feel at ease. That saturday night, I wore my best pair of pants, a simple t-shirt, and the pièce de résistance: my leather jacket. Not that it is anything out of this world, mind you. It simply fits my torso well, and has that intoxicating actual-leather scent that makes you want to stick your face into it. My shoulder-length metalhead hair was brushed, but not too thoroughly, for that sort of style lives on the appearance of little effort.

My original plan was to arrive, have a few drinks, and let loose after that. Lucas, however, spoiled that plan. Although I never had met him, he was sitting with a group that included a few buddies of mine, so I sat with them when I arrived. He had a very friendly demeanor, tightly curled hair at about shoulder length, and a disarming smile. Lucas’ song came up – a Brazilian pop classic from the early 80s -, and he looked around the table to see if anyone else would like to sing it with him. Everyone else chickened out, so I wondered I might as well get things started. I let him take the lead, and we had a sort of natural chemestry on the microphone (he was drunk and off-rhythm; I was confused and off-pitch). By the end of the song, in a mixture of drunkenness and performance ecstasy, he gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. As a straight dude, I would have imagined myself feeling a little stunned by that, but I didn’t really bat an eye. It just felt like a natural conclusion to the performance, I guess.

After his song, Lucas heard the sudden call of nature, and left the table for a few minutes. During that time, I got to know the other people of the table. I should be honest: most of the people there were fine, if entirely forgettable. Marina, on the other hand, was the sort of girl who inhabits your dreams without even trying. In many methods, she was conventionally attractive – blonde hair, smooth fair skin, curves in what one might call the right places (although I have yet to discover a wrong curve in a woman’s body). Those were the things that would make you see her in a subway train and think “now that’s a pretty girl”. What made her enchanting, however, were the details: the peculiar curve of her nose, the way her smile came and went with the swiftness of a magic spell, the tinge of deviousness everpresent in her dark green eyes. We hit it off tremendously in our brief conversation, thanks in part to the both of us having gone to the same school a few years prior. She mentioned she recognized me from the college corridors, and I confess that made me feel a little more confident than I probably should. Not that I was really very flirtatious at that moment. If you recall, I had yet to have my first drink. Right as my liquor arrived, so returned Lucas from his well-deserved break. He sat next to Marina, and she lay her hand on his thigh without the slightest cerimony. “Welp, there goes that chance”, I wondered to myself, moving the things I was thinking about her back into the realm of pure fantasy where they belonged. That wondered was the happiest mistake I ever made.

The night went along as one might expect for any given Saturday. A few songs, quite a number of drinks, the whole nine yards. Our group even befriended the local bum, he was an absolute sweetheart. As the night went along, naturally the attractive couple got progressively more involved in one another’s mouths. I did discover the sight quite arousing, but I kept my cool and just tried to enjoy the night as it came. Then my song came along. It is a song of absolute mania, of becoming a being beyond time and boundaries, the sort of orgastic anthem only a drug addict from the 1970s could compose. I sang it with an open heart and a big glass of beer in my hand, and by the end people were cheering profusely. Not that it was well-sung, I was only drunk enough and comfortable enough to be more performatic than most. I came down from the dingy karaoke stage in a sort of haze, my senses somewhat numb from exhilaration. I sat next to Marina, as I had been doing beforehand, only this time I lay my head on her shoulder. She looked me in the eyes for a long second, as I felt the smell of beer from her mouth mixed with the delightful scent of her hair. Just as the possibly terrible consequences of my gesture were about to dawn on me, Lucas touched her cheek and softly pulled her mouth into a slow, sensual kiss. I decided to stay put, thinking that any sudden movement might interrupt the show I was watching. His hand went slowly from her cheek to her neck, lightly making contact with my hair as he caressed her in that oh-so-sensitive region. A few moments later, the hand went down further still, until it lay softly on her breast. He was more cautious with his movements then, aware that we were in a public environment. Even so, his light caresses were clearly having an effect, as I could see her hardened nipple pushing through the thin fabric of her dress. In that symphony of the senses, I could swear I noticed yet another: the scent of her growing arousal. Lucas let his hand drop even lower, down the side of her body and onto the curve of her hip. He pulled her closer to him, into a deeper kiss, but not far enough as to displace my head from her shoulder. My eyes moved from her hips, to her bosom, to the kiss that was once more imposing itself as the star of the show. Then, I saw he was looking straight at me.

I was stunned, unable to avoid his stare, much less to move my body at all. He stopped their kiss for a brief moment, and she looked at him with longing, then at me with that sly malice of hers. He moved his hand from her hips to her wrist, than guided her hand onto my thigh. Their lustful kissing came back with a vengeance, her fingers tightening into my leg in bursts of passion, then slowly rising ever closer to my crotch, but without ever reaching it. I finally made a move, and lay my hand on her inner thigh, trying to tease her just as much as she was teasing me. My fingers moved into the skirt of her dress, close enough that I could feel the heat emanating from her sex. After a few minutes, they stopped kissing entirely, and moved their bodies so as to separate from me. I sat up straight, not knowing quite what to make of the preceding events. Eventually, Marina came closer to my ear and whispered: “shall we take this to our apartment?”

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This is already a bit of a long read, and I am nothing if not a terrible tease, so I will stop the story here for now. I already have an outline of following events in mind, but I would like to let the revery ferment in my head before putting it to paper once more. I’ll be glad to hear opinions and comments on the story so far, either in the comments or on my DMs. Just be polite, as I am sure you will be 😉 See you next time!

NSFW: yes

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