Her name was Celeste. She had a real pretty face with full pouty lips. If it weren't for that camel cigarette those lips would be begging for a kiss.. Her hair was in a pink bob which added to her seductive charm. But it was her body, oh that magnificent body-- curvy like the proverbial hour glass, that made me notice her first. She stood against the wall under a sign that read "Slut." Touche fate, I thought. Touche.
I couldn't summon up the courage to go up and talk to her. She had already mesmerized many men and women in the room and we all acted in concert with our shy over the shoulder looks. I started drowning myself in choppy vodka tonics hoping the alcohol would quell the burning in my loins.
It didn't help me one bit. But she did take notice of me. She approached while I was turned around to tap me on the shoulder. It felt as though she had plucked her bow and shot me with Cupid's very own arrow. I turned and muttered a few unintelligible words.
She shhhhed me and gave me a nod to follow her. I was under her spell. We made our way to the nearest bedroom. I was nervous.
I had never done anything like this. Before I knew what was happening she was mounting me giving it to me hard and brutal. I whimpered but she kept going reaching a fever pitch I never thought was possible outside the orchestra pit.
When it was done she kissed me goodbye and scratched me under my beak. I gave her my phone number.
I don't expect her to call.