Since becoming Ally, not only did I shed the long blonde locks I’d had my whole life, but I also vowed to shed my sexual inhibitions. My persona is that I dress outrageously and unconventionally, speak my mind, and embrace adventure, giving no fucks what anyone thinks. But truthfully, it’s all an act. I worry constantly, care what people think, and I can’t help but feel relief that he’s looking at me with what I think is lust.
I’m in love with this new me. She’s pretty far out from who I was before. I’ve never dabbled with a guy like Jude; I’ve never instigated a booty call, never played any extra-kinky sex games. Though sex with my ex was getting more and more adventurous before it ended – occasionally done in dangerous places and he was quite bossy during sex, which I liked. My short time with him is how I knew I wanted to explore kink further – he hinted at it too, but we never quite got there. I thought he was giving me time. But then he was revealed to be a lying murderous criminal and therefore a jerk of the highest order. But enough about him.
Jude doesn’t need to know that my experience with kink is so limited. I can fake it until I make it. I faked a lot of stuff I’m good at now, including my job, which I was in no way qualified for when I moved here.
My Ally persona even has me as a smoker trying to quit. Alyssa didn’t smoke but if I were a Bratz dol that came with one accessory, it’d probably be the cotton candy pink vape I use to “try to quit smoking”.
I fill it with no-nicotine e-juice and even act a little panicky when I can’t get a breather to inhale it. But if someone really paid attention, they’d see that I only inhale it once or twice and then mostly wave it around as I gesture.
Ally drinks boozy fruit drinks and swears like a sailor out loud instead of only in her head. Ally’s a skilled graphic designer working for a great company who values her.
And right now, Ally is gonna get Alyssa laid by a six foot two or three guy with thick, inky-black hair that falls just a little into his cobalt blue eyes, a sexy mustache and beard, and more tattoos than even she has.
Alyssa drank wine, didn’t know graphic design from a hole in the ground, and dated clean-cut guys.
Alyssa had one tiny butterfly tattoo on her butt cheek, but Ally has tattoos peppered almost all over her body. Alyssa had her ears pierced twice and her belly button done, but Ally has several ear piercings as well as her nose, eyebrow, and her septum done, not to mention her clitoral hood.
I’m looking forward to figuring out how that feels with someone beyond me playing with it.
I transformed myself and now I’m about to take things to that next level – sex as Ally instead of Alyssa. But just once with Jude Novak. Because he’ll get his taste and then he’ll move on. I’m just someone he’s curious about. That’s all.
He’ll have me. He’ll move on. And I’ll have spent a night feeling sexy and wanted and maybe even a little roughed up. Not sure why that idea appeals so much. But fuck does it ever.
This is drunk me and my vagina talking, by the way. Sober me knows better.
“You look mighty fuckable tonight, darlin’,” he says, eyes drinking me in.
I close the door and let his voice seep into my pores as I lock the first lock, lock the second lock, test the knob, and then pull the chain over.
He sets a motorcycle helmet down on the table by my door. So, obviously the damp hair is from a recent shower.
“And from my vantage point, you have too many clothes on,” I say, trying to stop my knees from buckling at that sexy statement and the timbre of that voice.
I like how blunt that is.
“Too many?” he smirks, looking down at what he’s wearing.
“I imagined you laying back talking to me with no shirt on, a pair of skintight boxer briefs,” I inform.
“And yet I chose to leave my place clothed. Go figure.”
I bite my lip and back up slowly, giving him my best come hither look. I’m doing this. I’m pulling this off, being a sex kitten.
He stands still, eyes roving over me.
“So, you wanna hate-fuck me here or in my bed?” I try.
“How much you had to drink tonight, Vixen?”
“Enough to feel warm and tingly. But not tingly enough. Enter you…”
“Enter me?”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” I ask.
“You’re not gonna regret this later and tell me you were too drunk to know what you were getting into?”
I’m definitely tipsy but I’m not blackout drunk right now and it’s kinda cool that he’s making sure of that.