42

Shit
I'm so fucking late
She's gonna kill me
The strong scent of alcohol could be smelt on me. I was struggling to keep my balance as if I was a one year old, learning to walk. My legs didn't work as I told them to, neither did my hands, or my fingers. I could barely hold the drink in my hand.
I sat down, my mind spinning. It was swaying; left and right. I felt sick. I knew I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be with my girl, like I had promised her, yet I was sat in the office of a club, drinking my life away.
"I should really get going," I slurred, hiccuping as I spoke too quickly. Jargon snorted, sniggering and chortling as he shook his head at me, the stripper shaking her ass for him still.
My mind was spinning, I could barely breathe in the atmosphere filled with smoke and the horrible aroma of alcohol and drugs. My eyes fell upon the small smear of drugs I had taken not long ago.
Shit
"Already?" Bentley asked, his thick French accent through his words. He laughed along with his friends. "I knew you had a woman; but I didn't realise she softened you up, pussy!"
I rolled my eyes which was a bad idea as I started to see stars. Blinking a few times I defended drunkenly, "I am not soft. . .sh-she is w-waiting for me - I'm supposed to be getting pussy right now. ." I managed to say between hiccups and hesitation of the fact that I couldn't form basic sentences in my head.
"You still can. Francis? Bring Louise! My good friend wants some pussy!"
My eyes expanded and I managed to sit up, coughing as I rubbed my tingling nose. The buzz was too overwhelming. The feeling of drugs and alcohol used to make me feel good and dangerous. But at that moment, they made me feel sick and guilty.
"No - don't call her. I told you, Jargo, I'm with someone-"
"So? She's just a female. She'll forgive you."
I groaned, shaking my head, which was another mistake, just as the door opened and a woman entered.
Damn she's hot
Not as hot as my girl
My eyes expanded and I managed to sit up, coughing as I rubbed my tingling nose. The buzz was too overwhelming. The feeling of drugs and alcohol used to make me feel good and dangerous. But at that moment, they made me feel sick and guilty.
I groaned, shaking my head, which was another mistake, just as the door opened and a woman entered.
"No - don't call her. I told you, Jargo, I'm with someone-"
"So? She's just a female. She'll forgive you."
Not as hot as my girl
Damn she's hot
But she's still hot
She wore a red, lace bra with a matching thong and fishnet tights. Her blonde hair was messy and added to her sexiness. She had wide hips and perfect curves, her breasts were pushed up and showed off her delicious cleavage. Her long, toned legs came closer and she stood in front of me, a seductive look on her lustful face.
"I. . ." Hesitating, I couldn't even finish my sentence. What happened to me? I was never one for relationships and I always did my own thing. But the thought of doing something with Louise made me feel disgusted. I was a damn pussy. Since when did a girl make me stop wanting a stripper?
I looked up at Louise and she continued to bewitch me with her appealing looks and body. She straddled me, her hands on my chest as she stared rolling her hips onto me, saying something in French but I couldn't understand.
I held back from groaning, her hips doing wonders to me. She leaned in, her red lips catching my attention and before I knew it, her lips were on mine. I heard the guys whooping, praising me for giving in.
I kissed her back, my hand going to her cheek as we sensually kissed for around ten seconds before reality kicked in. I automatically pulled away, pulling her off my lap and managing to stand up, groaning loudly as I ran my hand through my hair.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed in anger to myself, shaking my head as I groaned before going over in a rage and punching the wall.
"Cris! You left a dent in my wall!"
I sighed, turning to face Jargo. "You made me kiss another woman."
Louise sat in my seat, sighing. She seemed disappointed. I rolled my eyes to myself, taking it a wad of notes and tossing them to her. She gasped in shock. Her eyes seemed genuine as they looked up at me in surprise, "Merci," she gratefully told me before standing and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
"Only you control your own actions, Cristiano!"
I sighed again, my head banging. "I have a girl and if I don't want to cheat on her, I don't. If that makes me a pussy, I don't give a fuck. When you finally get someone, you'll understand. I think I'll sober up somewhere else."
Then I turned, walking to the door in a straight line besides their protests. I slammed the door behind me, wincing at the loud noise that made my ears ring. I sighed.
All I need to do is sober up and see my girl
Rose
Where is that stupid ass, late, annoying, idiotic, sexy, irritating, attractive man I call my boyfriend?
I exhaled in annoyance as I unfolded my arms and took out my phone, my thumbs quickly typing:
You're late. Where are you? Can you please answer my texts?
I rolled my eyes as I looked out, my eyes scanning the city's streets as I tried to locate Cristiano.
We had been to many places in Paris in a matter of hours. We visited the iconic Eiffel Tower where Cristiano kissed me under, the Louvre Museum, where Jordan tripped in front of thousands of people, the Arc de Triomphe and the shops on the Champs-Élysées, the Sacré Cœur, the Centre Pompidou, the Montmatre, the Montparnesse Tour, a boat trip down the Seine and Jordan wanted to see the Moulin Rouge.
So, the guys went to the Moulin Rouge and Cristiano texted me to say that they had been invited to the after party, but after, he wanted us to meet at Le Meurice, a famous hotel in Paris. I agreed and we set up a time. He was over an hour late.