What the hell was I thinking? Oh wait, I wasn’t. This was all Roxy’s idea and Dee was happy to go along. I sit back and sip my drink while the two of them chat about clothes and shoes. Yeah Roxy’s shoes are great and Dee’s dress is killer but how long can they talk about these things?
A minute later Dee breaks off the conversation to wave to someone and I turn my head, unsurprised by what I see. Tall, blonde, built, Dee’s type exactly.
“Delilah, you look stunning,” he says as he takes the seat beside her and opposite me. It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to Dee. Roxy is also surprised.
“You’re name’s Delilah?” she asks with wide eyes. “That’s so gorgeous! Why didn’t you tell me Jay?” She glares at me and I shrug.
“She’s always been Dee to me,” I say. Dee does the introductions but I don’t make a big effort to remember a name. Dee doesn’t tend to do repeats on her men.
I watch as the girls chat and Dee’s date toys with her hair and strokes her shoulder then the music slows down and he asks her to dance. That’s Roxy’s cue to look at me so I rise and lead her to the dance floor. She tucks against my chest nicely, and we’ve danced before so we fall into an easy rhythm.
Across the floor I see Dee with her hands on her date’s chest, keeping a bit of distance or chatting?
“They make a cute couple don’t they?” Roxy is smiling as she looks at Dee and company also.
“Mmm,” I say as I nuzzle Roxy’s ear making her giggle. “We’re cuter.” I don’t tell her not to get attached. She doesn’t know Dee yet but she’ll find out.
My best friend is a commitment-phoebe. More so than any man I know and that’s saying something. She doesn’t do relationships. Ever. We’ve been friends since we were 10 and in the almost 20 years since then I’ve watched her go through men like … what’s something that’s best fresh and you use often? Milk? I think she dated one guy for a month when we were teenagers and another got to three months in our early 20’s. Otherwise? Like I said, I don’t bother to remember their names.
Then there’s me, serial monogamist, constantly looking for my Miss Right according to Dee. What can I say? I love women, I love sex, the two so obviously go together and I’ve always been a quality over quantity type of man. Dee says I just like knowing I’m getting some at the end of the night which might be partly right but I also enjoy all those other aspects of being in a relationship.
“She’s really pretty isn’t she,” Roxy draws my attention.
“Who Dee?” she nods and I shrug. “I guess. She’s just Dee,” I lie. Truth is, Dee is gorgeous. Hourglass figure, dark silky hair that falls around her shoulders and frames her beautiful brown eyes.
“Typical,” Roxy rolls her blue eyes, tosses her mane of red hair over her shoulder. “I guess I’m just Roxy then,” she pouts.
“No honey, you’re sexy as fuck,” I assure her and pull her closer. We’ve only been dating for 6 weeks but I know she loves a little PDA so I drop my hands to grab her butt and give her a hot wet kiss. “See what you do to me,” I growl as I grind my now hard cock against her.
“Jay,” she purrs as she scrapes her nails down my back. “Kiss me again.”
I do with pleasure and before my eyes close I see Dee’s head tipped back as her date presses his mouth to her throat, his blonde hair a perfect visual reminder for me. I’m not her type, never have been, never will be.