Smut Short Stories

The Party - Michael Clifford

The room around me pulsed with energy and music. Several groups of people gathered in the large living space, as well as some pairs of people chatting, and some people dancing solo. Bursts of laughter filled the air whenever someone said something funny, and drinks were being consumed at fast rates. This was one of my coworker's houses; she had recently gotten engaged and wanted to host a party to celebrate.

And boy, did she know how to host and have the house for doing so. Her house was beautiful, well lit, and well decorated. The open concept layout made it quite easy for people to spread about the room. Not to mention, she had a pool open for use in her back yard. My coworker insisted I come because, in her words, there would be plenty of cute single people at the party.

My dating life had been sorely lacking in the last few months. I had gone on several dates that made for great horror stories, but nothing that led to more than a second date. It was partially the guys that I saw and I having nothing in common or them just being grade A assholes, but also partially me being hung up on someone.

Michael was a great human, someone I found myself wanting more every time we interacted. Our chemistry was undeniable. The 3 months I spent with him were filled with some of the best days I can remember in my adult life. Our relationship was spent in numerous ways; having childlike fun, great sex, and deep conversations were some of them. Unfortunately, while I was ready for a genuine relationship, something more serious, he was not.

It was quite disappointing to say the least. I had the self-respect to end things, and they didn't end on bad terms by any means. Still, even 4 months after we cut contact, a small hole in my heart lingered. I found myself comparing the men I was seeing to him and being disappointed. Given this, I stopped going out on dates, as I knew it would be unfair to anyone interested in me.

Yet here I was, coaxed in by my coworker to let lose, have a little fun. I had no intention of meeting anyone, but I was having a great time none the less. The two rum and cokes in my system spread warmth throughout my body. I was in a small group of my coworkers, all of us talking over the music and sharing some laughs. We stood in one of the corners of the large kitchen. I myself stood by the fridge, the back door to the pool and the table for drinks directly behind me.

I excused myself to make another drink, adjusting my dress a bit as I walked. A short black dress hugged my curves and hid the black bathing suit that I wore beneath it. After I pulled my dress further down my thighs I started working on my next drink. The concoction was about half and half soda and rum; I felt the buzz but wanted more. After I finished, I made my way back to my group, hearing them greet another one of our coworkers, Chelsea, into the group.

"Hey guys! It looks like I need to catch up with some shots." Chelsea spoke, making the others laugh. I looked up at her with a small grin as I took my spot back in the group. I froze not too long after, my heart picking up speed as I saw a painfully familiar figure standing behind her. Michael. He was just as handsome as I remembered. His short, spikey blonde hair flopped over his forehead, and stubble flooded his otherwise boyish face. He dressed casually, wearing a comfortable looking gray hoodie and some fitted black jeans. As he took in the surroundings of the room a few thoughts went through my head. Part of me wanted to hide, to avoid him as I was still trying to move on. The other part that didn't want to move on wanted to be close to him in any way possible.

"This is my friend, Michael. Michael, the girls. I'll be back with a drink." Chelsea excused herself. Michael halted his room scan in order to look back at our group, smiling lightly. I not so subtly turned my back towards him and stood behind one of my coworkers before he could see me. I swirled my drink, lost in my own world while trying to decide on the best way to handle this. Should I say something? Should I pretend to not know him? Should I find a reason to go home? I took a large gulp of my drink, trying to flush away the nerves with alcohol. Shortly after I was brought out of my mind by the coworker I stood behind.