With summer quickly progressing into fall, I was reminscing about Brian’s challenge to slut it up this summer.
Kick off was at the Summer Solstice which occurred on June 21st – the longest day of the year when midsummer celebrations with dancing and bonfires are held in Scandinavian cultures. Please tell me that it was a logical extension to make plans to attend a Scandinavian Summer Solstice meet up on 57th Street in Manhattan.
Hopes are always high during the summer that wearing f—k me clothes accompanied by a killer tan will spark true love, summer flings or maybe just perfectly acceptable random flirts. My current read “La Seduction” (by Elaine Sciolino) made me long to find pleasure in everything I did – as the French do – so I invited my French girlfriend to join me. I will call her Paris. Since I’ve learned to expect the unexpected, was I surprised that the meet up did not meet expectations? Small wonder that no one was dancing to insipid techno music and where were all the tall blond hotties anyways? Apparently they were at some bonfire in Scandinavia.
Time to find some Latin men.
What’s great about Latin clubs is that the woman doesn’t have to make any effort. Just stand there smiling with your eyes – preferably wearing sexy clothing – and look eager to dance. Soon enough a guy will be fulfilling that desire. Paris has an alternate view considering it a sweaty meat market and decidedly not Gallic. So much for pleasure… But as they say in French “Vive la difference” and presto – within approximately 5 minutes of arrival a dark handsome stranger leads me willingly to the dance floor.
It’s my lucky night as exotic looking guy with dark curly locks is a great dancer. As expected, he knows how to take the lead and he takes my body under his control. I struggle to keep up with his pace – the steps, the dips, the spins – while wearing some ridiculous pair of shoes totally unsuited for dancing. I feel his hands all over my body but can’t seem to muster a protest despite a vague sense that something is amiss. He guides me towards a dark corner where his ultimate intention is fulfilled as we engage in a steamy make out session – my hands greedily in aforementioned curly locks and elsewhere. I literally don’t give a shit – take me by the tongue and I’ll know you. Kiss me ‘til you’re drunk and I’ll show you– this guy’s got the moves like Jagger – great dancer, great kisser who – I finally realize – holy shit – undid my bra while on the dancer floor. Moves better than Jagger!