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Twenty one

FREYA

“Not so fast, Freya.” He said and suckled at the tail of his weed.

I scuffed and shook my head. I had given him what he wanted, and he is now playing on me as though I’m a helpless fish in his net.

“You said I should…”

“I changed my mind.” He said, squashed the weed in a glass disc on the table in front of him, and stood up. “What if I ask you to take champagne with me?”

Good lord, I didn’t know he is such a disgusting fellow. He doesn’t want to keep to his words, and he wants to get me into drinking in an empty stomach. That’s silly.

“You don’t mean it.” I said, backing off from him as he came close to me.

“Always running off and yet running into danger. Aren’t you tired of your rat race.” He said, his eyes on my chest. Had I known I would bump into him, I wouldn’t have worn the light gown without my undies on.

“I’m sorry for always running into you, but…”

“I propose just a glass of champagne, or you suck my dick.” He voiced out his true intention.

Indeed, I would like to suck
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