Wow! I can’t believe the day is almost here. I have one more excerpt I want to share from my first book Untraditional. It’s from the last chapter of the book entitled “The Robinsons'”. Please enjoy and as usual I’m always looking for feedback.
#PassionFY #beUntraditional #UntraditionalVday #DNC
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The night went on and the club filled up. We danced. We laughed. We drank. Soon Monroe was full and dancing with everyone, including other men and women, but always coming back to Andrew.
Andrew didn’t seem bothered by her momentary lap dances on others. He just smiled and took a sip of his drink. It was weird, but at the same time attractive to see a man so confident and comfortable with his woman.
Men that I’ve seen in similar situations normally end up getting kicked out the club for trying to fight or just stood up for the night because another man just took his girl. But the Robinsons’ relationship was different. It was honest and real; open but trusting. It was new to me.
The mood shifted and a slow song came on over the speakers.
I started swaying from side to side, letting the music take my mind to another place where I had my own Andrew; someone who wanted no one but me; someone who complemented me; from my career and personal endeavors to my sexual needs and yearning to be unconditionally loved.
In my daze I could feel a man’s hands grab my waist, swaying to the beat with me, then pushing up against me, but still to the beat. I let my imagination run and indulged him by pushing my ass up against him. I could feel him getting longer and harder. I smiled to myself and laid my head back on his chest. He gripped my hips harder, pulling them closer and tighter to his staff. It felt good and fit right into my fantasy.
I opened my eyes. It was Andrew. I immediately stopped and looked to see where Monroe was. She was on the dance floor dancing with a guy, but looking dead at us. I took two quick steps from him, totally embarrassed. Even more so, feeling disrespectful of the marriage I had just been admiring.
Monroe started walking toward me, as I was now standing back at the bar. I turned away trying to get the bartender’s attention but also trying to separate myself from this, “hell, naw, bitch” moment I had created.
She tapped me on the shoulder.
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