Unexplainable

There are a few things in life that I don\'t do: I never eat my brussel sprouts, I never wear the same shirt twice in a week and I definitely never hit on guys, especially in bars. Even if we could have a decent conversation over the usual loud music, how can I know who they really are? For all I know they\'re psycho\'s who are just waiting for the right time to pick on me.
Why are all these details important? Mostly because if you base yourself on this premise, this past weekend should\'ve never happened.
Since this doesn\'t make a lot of sense outside of context, please let me explain a few things. My name is Suzanne and I\'m 21 years old.I live in Montreal and am currently working on my degree in medicine. Physically, I\'m normal: not overweight but not stick-thin, not drop dead gorgeous but certainly not ugly. Can you see how much I exude of normalcy? Nothing\'s really special from my life except that I can write essays about some obscure disease in less then two hours. Fascinating, hun?
Summer vacation was about to start when my mom called to ask me to visit my cousin in New York. According to my aunt, my cousin, Diane, had started to see a \"frightening young man who must be depressed -- he wears too much black!\". Since my ticket was paid for and extra \"living\" money provided for as well, I decided to go to \"check on my cousin\", as my aunt said. Why pass this opportunity? I am a student after all and free money isn\'t something we can deny. It would also give me a chance to spend some time with my cousin who I had not seen in ages.
I get to New York in one piece, even though the train took forever and the border guards were bastards. My cousin was at the train terminal, waiting for me. She looks good, in a \"even though it\'s 40 degrees outside I\'m dressed completely in black\" way. Odd, since I remember her as being much more of a hippy, but hey! These things can happen after all!
We go to her apartment where I met this infamous boyfriend, Steve. It so happens that he\'s is a sweat-heart. He brings her presents and flowers, he\'s smart, intelligent, has a sense of humor, and (miracles of miracles!) has a steady job bar-tending in a bar downtown. Di and I laughed a bit about her mother being overprotective, but we both agreed that it must have been the mom genes.
After spending the whole lauglaughing and talking, Steve having left to get ready for work, Di suggested that we go out to the bar where he works.
\"Hey! Let\'s visit Steve! Come on, it would be fun!\" were her exact words
I looked at her dubiously.
\"Di, not only would I stick out like a sore thumb, but I don\'t know anyone except for you!\"
\"Don\'t worry about the clothes -- you\'re my size, right? You can borrow some of mine! As for not knowing anyone, don\'t worry. Some of my friends are going to be there and I know you\'ll love them!\"
\"For someone who shudders at the thought of wearing yellow, you\'re much to giddy, Di. OK, fine, we\'ll go.\"
I figured that she would just loan my a black tank top or something, but no, I was being optimistic.
Two hours later, I\'m wobbling my way down the stairs in front of her apartment, wearing not only a tight-fitting red bustier and crinoline-like skirt but knee high fish net and her best \"bitch-boots\", as she named them. I\'ve never worn so much make-up in my life and my shoair,air, usually simply tied back with pins, seems as if it has a life of its own. I felt ridiculous but after seeing my cousin gushing over me on how good I looked, I decided to shrug it off and simply go with it.
The cab we had flagged left us at the entrence of a very suspicious looking alley -- you know the ones were, in horror movies, the blonde bimbo always decided to run in? Well, a few of those directors must have filmed that scene there.

\"Di, are you sure we\'rethe the right place? This is a bit creepy.\"

She laughs and pulls me in the alley where a door appeared. I guess that we were in the right spot after all. It didn\'t have a doorknob but when she knocked on it, a mountain of a man opened it up, looked at us and signaled for us to enter. A few steps and I swear I was in the Twilight Zone. Sure, I\'m not someone who leaves academia very often, but this was something I had never seen before. It wasn\'t a big bar but it was pretty packed. Packed with people dressed in leather pants, fish-net tops, spikey necklaces, you name it, it was there. Di quickly moved to the bar that was to our right and after elbowing a few people, leaned over the bar to kiss her boyfriend.
Since I didn\'t know anyone, I reluctantly followed her. Still not quite sure of my balance, I tapped people on the shoulder and moved past them, trying not to be rude but refusing to lose my cousin.
After a few moments of saliva-exchanging, she turned to me.

\"OK, what do you want to drink?\"
\"Umm...\"

I guess I must have looked pitiful because she simply turned back to Steve and ordered 2 vodka shots and 2 beers. My eyes must have gone as big as saucers. I rarely drink wine or beer, never mind hard alchool! Di laughed at the face I made when I slammed that shot down. Since other patrons wanted someentiention from Steve as well, we decided to walk around and find a table. There was a small nook just beside the dance-floor where a few tables were set and Di recognized a few people there so we joined them. I was introduced to everyone but the music was so loud that I really didn\'t feel like shouting a conversation to some stranger, so I started to look around. The dance floor was packed with people moving to music I had never heard before but couldn\'t quite dislike. More people were sitting at the tables spattered around the club talking among themselves. They were certainly interesting to look at. Still sipping my beer, I then noticed a guy sitting alone at a table not to far from us in the corner of the alcove. He was leaning back on his chair, one foot on the chair next to him, his head leaned back with his eyes closed. While he was wearing what seemed to my untutored eyes leather pants, he was simply wearing a black shirt and no other accessories. Nothing too out of place here but still enough to catch my attention. I have to admit that even in tark ark he looked good.
At that point my cousin tapped me on my shoulder and said (rather, shouted) that she and a few others were going to dance. I nodded and she then added that if ever we get separated, that I should go to the bar and wait with Steve.
With less people around, I moved to the opposite side of the table where I could watch this guy. After a few minutes of staring at him, I decided to do something I never do: walk up to him and talk to him. Which I did.
I sat down next to him and put my beer on the table. He must have sensed me because he opened his eyes and looked at me.
\"Hi, my name is Suzanne. How are you?\"
He frowned.
\"Listen, fuck off. Not interested.\"
The shock must have been evident because before I could respond to that he simply sighed.
\"Didn\'t you come here to hit on me?\"
I shook my head. His frown increased.
\"Then why are you here?\"
I shrugged. While I was sure my tongue wouldn\'t cooperate, I tried to talk and to my surprise something coherent came out of my mouth!
\"You seemed to be alone and I barely know anyone here. Sorry to have disturbed you.\"
I got up and walked over to \"our\" table, sitting with my back to him. I was so mortified! This is what comes from doing spontaneous things.
Slugging down more beer, I almost spat out it out when I felt a tap of the shoulder. Turning around, I saw him there, a wry grin on his face.
\"I\'m sorry if I was such an ass.\", he says.
I shrug, a small smile on my face.
\"So Suzanne, my name is Dylan. To demonstrate how much I\'m sorry, do you want to dance?\"
I bit my lip, wanting to say yes but not really wanting to make a fool out of myself.
\"Umm... Is there somewhere less conspicuous? I\'m not a great dancer...\"
He took my hand and gently tugged me to my feet. Weaving through the crowd, we went to the other side of the dance floor, where there was an alcove, similar to the place where our table were but bare. Only a few people were there and they were all quite coupled off and making out in the shadows. He put his left hand on my waist and we started to sway. I had seen the people dance to this type music earlier and I tried to imitate them. Not successfully since I stepped on Dylan\'s toes. I jumped from his arms.

\"I told you I was a horrid dancer!\", and turned to walk back, mortified at my mistake. He caught my arm and tugged me back to him.
\"You\'ve proven the use of steel-top boots, that\'s all.\"
Relaxing a bit, I closed my eyes and tried to enjoy myself. The music was almost primal, with a heavy bass beat to it and we started to dance closer and closer until we were pressed up against each other. When I opened my eyes, his face was next to mine and I noticed that he had blue eyes. I was about to remark on it when he leaned in and gently kissed me. Surprised, I broke it off and stopped dancing but didn\'t let go of him. He was about to say something when I leaned forward again and kissed him back. It started as a nice, almost chaste closed-mouth kiss but rapidly became one of those heated kisses that makes your blood boil. He pulled me even closer to him and I started massaging his neck with one hand while the other felt his back. When he abandoned my lips to nibble on my jawline, peppering kisses down to my neck, I moaned. His hands were everywhere: on my ass, on my waist, lightly scratching my back. This continued until we ended up against the wall behind me, his knee between my thighs, rubbing against my center. Taking a chance, I started petting his chest, moving ever slowly down. When I reached his hardness and gave it a squeeze, he broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead on the wall near my head.
\"Su, if you don\'t want this to get out of hand soon, you\'d better stop.\"
Lust had taken over: I continued to massage his cock while my other hand was busy pulling his tee shirt out of his pants. My nails started to lightly scratch him.
Dylan did nothing more then continue to moan softly in my ear. If his earlier petting hadn\'t gotten me wet, this certainly did. Playing as if this was normal for me, I started to lick his earlobe.
\"Do you have any idea how wet I am right now?\"
This seemed to snap him out of it because next thing I know my hands are on top of my head, where he\'s holding them with one hand while the other is massaging my inner thigh.
\"Really? Let\'s see about that, shall we?\" he whispered in my ear.
Creeping slowly up my inner thigh, all I could feel was pure need for him to touch me. Reaching my underwear, he rubbed me gently, feeling how moist the cotton was. Then, he pushed them aside and started to stroke me. Catching my mouth again, we continued to kiss while he was playing with my outer lips, teasing me, making me sweat more. I thought I couldn\'t take it any more when a finger slipped inside of me and started to slide in and out. This was too much for me and I came right then and there. Thankfully he was holding me up because if he weren\'t I would\'ve slipped to the floor from the force of my orgasm. Slowly coming out of my stupor, panting, I stared at him. He let go of my hands and taking the finger he had fucked me with, presented it to me. Taking it in my mouth, tasting myself on him, wrapping my tongue over his digit, was one of the most erotic things I\'ve ever experienced.
After this things are still a bit of a blur: all I remember was more kissing, stroking and teasing until we ended up in a small bathroom. Thankfully it was a room and not a stall. It was stereotypical: a toilet, a sink and a small mirror. I didn\'t notice anything else because my attention was somewhere else at the time. At one point we had repeated our earlier position: my back was against the wall again. While I was humping his leg, needing more friction, my hands were busy with his belt. He was so hard that it was difficult to finally pull that zipper down but when it did, I noticed that he went commando. Not caring much for anything at this point, I stroked his cock, wrapping my hand around it and moving up and down. Taking a step back, Dylan reached under my skirt and slipped my underwear off. Stepping out of them, I noticed that he had reached for his wallet from which he pulled out a condom. While he was putting it on, I started rubbing myself, making me hornier then ever. We didn\'t lose much time after that. Pinning me to the wall with his chest, he leaned down and taking my thighs, wrapped my legs around him and entered me. There was so much lubrication created by our earlier encounter that he slid into me with no difficulty. He was stretching me just right and we took a split second to feel it before we started to move. Using his hips as leverage, I started to move up and down, loving the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Our position allowed that my clit was rubbing against his coarse hair on every down-stroke and I was getting closer with every movement. Pounding away, one hand under my ass to help me move and the other bracing him against the wall, I could feel his cock twitch, meaning that he was about to come. The combination of the image of me having sex in a bathroom and the friction to my clit caused me to go over the edge. I don\'t think I\'ve never had an orgasm of that strength before: I could feel my inner walls fluttering away, my legs squishing Dylan\'s midsection and my bach arching back. Feeling me come caused him to orgasm as well, because he suddenly he plunged into me harder then before and cried out.
Panting, we were still clinging to one another when I felt his cock shrink. Unclasping my legs from his waist, he reached between my legs and made sure that when he pulled out the condom didn\'t slip off.
Turning to the toilet he flushed the condom.
I cleared my throat.
\"Wow.\"
He laughed silently. With his back still to me, he asked \" Did you think this would\'ve happen when you sat next to me earlier?\"
\"No,\" I quietly reply, \"not at all. This is not something I usully do.\"
He turned to me a slightly disbelieving look on his face.
\"Hun. What possessed you this time, then?\"
Shrugging, I replied while picking up mscarscarded underwear and putting them on.
\"I guess that it\'s the fact that I\'m out of town, in a bar that I\'ve never been to and dressed up like this for the first time in my life.\"
Leaning against the sink, he tucked himself back in.
\"So you\'re not from New York?\"
\"No, I\'m from Montreal.\"
\"What are you doing here then?\"
\"Mostly visiting my cousin, Diana.\"
He was about to reply when the we heard pounding on the door and a familiar voice outside asking if everything was OK. When I opened up the door, there was my cousin, looking worried and relieved to have found me.
\"Where the fuck have you been? I\'ve been looking for you for...\"
Trailing off, she noticed the man behind me and smirked.
\"Hey Dylan.\"
\"Di, I didn\'t know she was..\"
\"It\'s fine,\" my cousin interrupted him, \"I was just concerned because Su\'s not from around here. And Su, Steve has finished his shift and we\'re heading home. Are you coming?\"
\"I guess I am. Can I meet you outside in a few minutes?\"
She rolled her eyes and closed the door to the disappointment of the line of people outside.
Turning around and leaning against the door, I couldn\'t quite look Dylan in the eye. In two steps he walked up to me and tilted my chin to look in my eyes.
\"It\'s fine. I understood that this was to be without any strings attached.\"
I smiled and kissed him gently. Feeling pity for the poor souls with bursting bladders, I opened the door and walked out in the club. Weaving through the crowd, I had almost reached the door when Dylan, who I guess had followed me, grabbed my hand and engulfed me in a hug. With a quick peck on the cheek, he let me go but not before sliding something in my hand. Waving my goodbyes to him, I left the club where Di and Steve were waiting for me.
Bach at Di\'s apartment, I looked at what he had slipped in my hand: it was his business card. It seems that he\'s a musician, according to Di, which would explain that he has cards on him. If ever I want to contact him, I have at least his e-mail adress... It also helps that it turns out that while she doesn\'t know him very well, no one in her circle seems to think he\'s a jerk.
So I\'m back in Montreal, thinking about all of this and wondering what I should do. I\'m still not sure if I should write to him. Di\'s pushing me to do it, saying that he\'s a good guy, but I\'m not sure if I should. That evening seemed to be a once-in-a-lifetime thing for me. I don\'t even know what possessed me to do go up to him never mind having mind-blowing sex in the bathroom. Certain things are simply unexplainable, I guess.