A College Guy's Taste

"This is only my second time at a bar. That night was the first," Dexter said, sitting next to me.

"Tsk, tsk. Don't bother. Your innocent act has completely fallen apart with me," I said dismissively, taking a sip of my drink.

"I've never put on an innocent act. If you insist on seeing me as some innocent guy, that's not my problem." He held his glass with those well-defined, pale, slender fingers and chuckled.

"Hey, come here." I crooked my finger, signaling him to lean closer.

Then, I breathed against his ear and asked with a smile in my eyes, "That night wasn't your first time, was it?"

"It was."

I licked my lips and grabbed his tie. "Not enough. I want more."

After saying that, I pushed him back and leaned away.

"Anyway, three o'clock. My target has appeared."

I slowly walked toward that man with my drink in hand. He raised his glass in response.

After one drink, he suggested taking me home, and I agreed. Just as I returned to my seat to grab my things and leave, I saw Dexter looking furious.

"Let go. This is my boyfriend." After saying that, he pulled me to his side.

"Stop talking nonsense. I'm not his boyfriend. Let's go."

"That's right! He said it himself that he's not your boyfriend. Try blocking him one more time and you'll see what happens!" The other man, emboldened by alcohol, raised his voice.

"Haven't you seen couples fight before? Get lost."

Dexter was not backing down either. I could see fine beads of sweat on his forehead as his fists clenched tighter.

During their scuffle, Dexter's forehead hit the table. Immediately, a large bump swelled. The other man fell on the steps and split his lip.

Finally, security arrived and stopped the fight in time. I could not stay at the bar anymore, so I had to take Dexter and leave quickly.

On the way back, Dexter kept brushing against me, his hands wandering everywhere. I could not tell if he was drunk or if the bump on his head had scrambled his brain.

I found his keys in his coat pocket and helped him into his unit.

"Babe, I want water."

"Here, here. Drink up."

"Babe, my head hurts."

"Let me give you a massage."

I tended to him, then went to get ice cubes from the refrigerator to make an ice pack for his forehead.

"Babe, I want a hug."

In this state, he was more demanding than a child.

I had no choice but to humor him. "Come on, here's your hug."

He lay on the bed, holding me tightly and draping one leg over me. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the warm breath constantly flowing from his mouth.

Whether from the heat or the alcohol hitting me, I felt a bit dizzy too. Suddenly, he started kissing my face.

At first, they were light, tentative pecks. When he saw I was not struggling, he deepened the kisses. They left me somewhat breathless. I wanted to push him away, but he had me pinned down with both his hands and legs.

His fingertips continued tracing across my body as his lips found mine.

I decided to take matters into my own hands, thinking, 'If this is going to happen, I need to be the one in control. I can't lose my dignity.'

I flipped over and straddled him, unbuckling his belt and kissing my way down. That was when I froze.

Feeling me stop, he immediately lifted me up. "Satisfied?"