I wasn’t a regular acquaintance party attender. Parties of that kind weren’t really my thing, I being the classic introvert who would rather stay indoors, shut away from all the world in the company of books and tongue curling bitter coffee. I wasn’t the kind of person to put myself out there, present myself before a crowd of people and fist pump to mind numbing dance music on a cramped, sweaty, poorly lit dance floor where all kinds of strange things are happening. No. This wasn’t my idea of fun and a bad idea would be to force myself into awkward situations for the sake of coming out of my comfort zone. No thank you, I’m fine in my comfort zone all  huddled and safe indoors free from drama and uncomfortable small talk.

But there was one party that I was pretty damn thankful I attended.

Our college held an acquaintance party annually to get students to mingle and socialise and teach them to go out of their comfort zones and meet other people besides those from their program, aside from being another way to bond with their classmates besides their regular bonding during classes. Pitifully, I was already a senior who had lost more than half of her friends with the other half reduced to mere acquaintances due to some backstabbing and fakery issues which I don’t really want to discuss in detail as it could get unsettling for me and anxiety would creep right up at me if I did so.  Besides, that’s water under the bridge now and although I still might feel an inkling of hurt and embarrassment, I’d like to keep the past in the past and just focus on the present. That aside, I was trying my best to have a good time in the company of mere acquaintances and one time seatmates from various programs in various classes. At all costs, I tried to avoid my classmates and schoolmates who were all with their cliques in fancy midriffs and shorts, this moment being one of the few, rare opportunities they could dress as liberally as they wanted. I kept out of their sight and sought after other people who I felt would appreciate my company and I knew didn’t know anything about me. It’s hard to socialise with people whom you have a history with, who know so much about you, makes it a lot harder to act freely around them.

With all due fairness to myself, I was capable of striking a conversation and keeping the ball rolling, I wasn’t after all totally shy. I just had a preference for solitude, that’s all, but I didn’t blush to the roots at the thought of engaging in small talk. It just wasn’t my cup of tea but for tonight I pulled it off effortlessly.

“Did you hear about Leonard’s guest?” Sharlyn asked me. Sharlyn was my classmate in Philosophy back in my sophomore days. Sharlyn was a Business Administration student who was graduating at the same time as me.

“No. Who’s Leonard’s guest?” Leonard was another classmate of mine in Philosophy who was the Jay Gatsby of their course, as Sharlyn would expound. We two were literary freaks so we understood the reference and I knew how gregarious and extroverted Leonard could be, one who loved the spotlight and enjoyed being the life of the party. Right now he was mingling, as my squinted eyes could see, with a group of girls who may or may not be from their program expanding is social circle even more. I was in vehement search of his guest, obviously someone who appeared to be out of place in all this, one whose face was a new sight but with the students all coming together rowdy and noisy, moving about like sardines in a can, it was hard to recognize and I just gave up on the attempt altogether.

“Leonard brought in this outsider who’s a really talented photographer. Name’s Spencer. A lot like him except he wasn’t as rich but he’s energetic alright and had such charm!” What ran into my mind was a perfect gentleman, and old world individual who still believed in courtship and didn’t have a Twitter account.

“Gee, I’d love to meet that Leonard.” I said out of the blue, not fully thinking about my words before spraying them out. Sharlyn’s eyes grew with surprise.

“Are you sure? You’d be surprised, I’m telling you.”

“Hey, you say he’s charming. You know I’m a sucker for the charming types.”

“Well, suit yourself. He’s right there.” Sharlyn pointed one stubby white finger at the direction of Leonard. Over to his right was a chair and in that lone plastic chair sat a young man with dark, curly hair cropped short, some strands falling before his eyes. In his hand he held (somewhat disappointedly, as I could assume that he expected alcohol and yearned for alcohol) a red plastic cup that was filled with the cheap concessionaire stand punch that sold for 20 pesos at the biggest and blandest. His sinister, piercing eyes moved with such stealth from side to side, eyeing the party and its guests, looking for someone to play around with or fuck  I supposed. I stared at him, completely losing track of what Sharlyn was saying. I couldn’t hear her anyways, with all the sounds drowning out her gentle voice and besides, at that moment, I completely zoned out and stared, focused on his piercing deep brown eyes that were enshrouded by shadows of black, not a hint of light touching him adding to his brooding mysteriousness.

“That’s him right there you’re looking at.” Sharlyn pointed. “He looks dangerous, doesn’t he?” To be honest, Spencer sucked all the energy right out of me that all I could do was deafly, numbly stand and gaze at him. I ignored Sharlyn completely and it was like some magnet drew me to Spencer whose gaze had yet to steady. I was in a state of hypnosis and was blindly combing my way through the raucous crowd that were by that time already jumping, tossing about feigning intoxication while I remained strangely calm and undaunted by all the chaos happening in the background. I was fixated on a single goal and that was to get as close as possible to Spencer who seemed to grow more isolated and aloof by the second.  I walked on and on, light footstep after light footstep as I could feel and see Spencer getting closer to me.

I snapped out of my hypnotized state and realized that I was in the middle of the dance floor getting pushed around. I never made it halfway through and elbowed about, spinning around in a confused, tepid frenzy, the shirt and jeans I wore getting pulled at and yanked towards the crowds that were grinding and gyrating about, some breakdancing and krumping in the middle. I stayed away from it all, forcibly pulled myself out and dashed away from the crowd. A sea of people was to eat me alive and turn me into one of them but I was determined to swim away from it and be my own person.

I was lost in all the hullaballoo that I didn’t know what was going on about me anymore. I lost all sense of awareness and it worked against me when I was unable to react defensively when I felt a strong grip tighten itself around my upper arm. Before I had even time to react, the hand pulled me to its direction and though I yelped and shrieked, my voice disappeared with the party noise. Next thing I knew there was nothing felt but the tight grip of imminent danger yanking me from security.

“Come with me. Let’s get outta here.” The voice buzzed in my ear and as I spun around, lo and behold, my heart was arrested at the sight of darkly handsome, brooding, possible crook, seemingly voyeuristic, secret alcoholic and junkie Spencer, staring right through me with piercing midnight eyes and eyebrows furrowed permanently. With all honesty I felt afraid at the sight of him and my vivid imagination played a movie in my head, picturing Spencer stealing me away into his warped, distorted world of petty crime and adolescent perversions. I shut my eyes tightly anticipating my doom, resigning myself in my pathetic, ironic death: in a shitty party in the hands of a demented Ted Bundy reincarnation.

“Hey, what the hell’s the matter with you? Why are you closing your eyes. Come, I’m not gonna rape you.” I opened my eye a wink, fearfully staring doom in the eye. Doom’s face grew tame with a silly little smirk that was threatening to turn into a grin emitting a full blown guffaw in mockery. I blushed to the roots in embarrassment, kinda guilty of judging him pre-emptively. I relaxed my shoulders that were perked in a surge of adrenaline and started to subconsciously put my trust in Spencer.

“Wh-where are we going?” my aquiver lips spat. Spencer gave me the most eloquent, honest reply that didn’t even need any words: a smirk.

“Away from this pretentious shithole! Come, hey!” he grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me away from the maddening crowd of feverish partygoers who were uniformed by the day. We ran to the parking lot that was just adjacent to the covered court where the party was being held and located his beat up Toyota. In the parking lot, we were the only ones in existence, the only ones who dared abdicate from the crowd. His Toyota of faded teal lit up and I unwittingly, unthinkingly went along with a stranger who for some reason, found me interesting enough to drag along with him. My mother told me a number of times not to talk to strangers but hey, I was a self-proclaimed unconventional and now was my perfect opportunity to defend my repertoire.

While Spencer backed the car up and drove out of his parking lot slot, my mind disappeared from the present and got lost in a swarm of questions yet unanswered buzzed about in my head. Who was Spencer? How did he know me? Did he even know me? If so, how? How did I ever occur to him when for so long I had been invisible to practically everyone on campus? I was about to mouth a question to him when he, seemingly psychic, read my mind and answered my query.

“I’ve been watching you since you arrived at the party. Every move, every word, I’ve been paying attention. I know it’s creepy and unsettling but there’s something about you that tells me you hate being here. And when you looked at me, I made subtle eye contact. Now, when you got lost in the crowd, I decided to make a move.”

The flurry of things were still far too daunting for me to make any connection so I let my mind keep guessing and just sat there in the running car in a daze.

“You know my name?” I asked him. Spencer just shook his head lightly and shrugged.

“Does it matter?” Something told me that he was about to spew some Shakespeare at me but I kept my smart mouth shut and kept the snide remarks to myself.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I don’t care what your name is, you’re still you regardless if you were named Emily or Joy. I still like you and I still see a special kind of rebellion in your eyes and to me that’s all that matters. So don’t worry your silly head off and just go with the flow.” He relaxed, hands tightly gripping the wheel and swerving to avoid every stubborn motorcyclist and truck.

“But if you want to tell me your name, you’re more than welcome to.” I told him my name under my breath with much nervousness, the rattle of my voice no doubt heard by him. Spencer glanced sideways, my way, and smirked maniacally. As much as I would like to tame my fantasies, I no doubt believed that he was getting all sorts of creatively quirky ideas-and not in the most artistic.

“Nice name. Means beautiful in Italian.” Now, you have kind of an idea of my name. “Suits you, too.  Innocent looking girl deserves a name as such.” Admittedly what he said was corny as hell and if he was trying to hit on me with that line, I would turn him down immediately but Spencer was an unconventionally handsome guy and unconventionally handsome guys were my thing so he gets a pass. Still, I blushed with embarrassment for him upon hearing his poor attempt at flattery.

“Uh, thanks I guess. Now tell me, where are we going?” Of course, it would be stupid of me to expect him to give me an honest answer, or even a clear one. Mysterious guys like him never say exactly what’s on their mind. They’re the type to use all sorts of weird metaphors and insert Shakespearean philosophies in everyday conversations.

“To have fun.” He stepped on the pedal and the ancient Toyota sped down the highway and along with the breeze went my common sense and rationality.

The air of the car was free of a conversation as we drove, the silence making my shoulders twitch in awkwardness. I felt it was my responsibility to at least start a conversation and keep the ball rolling but one look at Spencer’s face told me he wasn’t in the mood for shallow chit chat. Instead, I focused again on the dark highway ahead of us which never materialized in the darkness which turned everything black.

“You know that little convenience store? The Beta Mart a few blocks away from school?” he asked suddenly, breaking the chilly silence. Eager me whipped her head to the side and stared doe-eyed at Spencer whose piercingly brown eyes were intent on the road. I bubbled with excitement inside but maintained my composure and kept a decent pokerface in his intimidating presence.

“Yeah. What about it?” Spencer was indeed the master of silent responses. He didn’t need words, I tell you. All he needed to do was smirk and all the answers came pouring forth from his thin lips.

“You like having fun?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Aren’t you gonna answer?” he hit back at me, choosing to ignore my question. My brows furrowed a bit and I inched backwards with my back resting on the door, ready to bolt if he was about to try something new. With all honesty, as much as I did want to open the door and roll out of there, the curiosity and arousal were far more powerful than the need to save myself. I clenched the seat cover tightly and waited for his reply, one that he left for me to figure out.

“Well? You seem spaced out right there.”

“Yeah. I-I do want to have fun.”

“Trust me, this is the kind of fun you don’t find at shitty little acquaintance parties.” Spencer made a left turn and parked his car right at the parking lot that was before the small, brightly lit neon-signed store called the Beta Mart which was basically a 7-11 supermarket hybrid. With the engine switched off, the two of us went straight out of the car and merged at the automatic doors of the store, entering its blindingly fluorescent merchandise heaven, with everything from chips to beer to condoms and cheap cigarette lighters empty after the first five days of use.

“Stay close.” Spencer surprised me by grabbing my wrist and gently ushering me to the back aisle where the cookies and chocolates were. I looked about me and soon understood why he took me to this side of the store. A brush of excitement came to me when he leaned his lips to my ear, tickling me with every word, his tepid breath sweet with concessionaire stand punch told me,

“The CCTVs don’t reach as far as this aisle,” he motioned his pouting lips over to the convex mirror hanging on the corner of the ceiling that was supposed to be the CCTV unit that was to capture our every move. Now I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I was quick enough to realize that his idea of fun was indeed different from the average young man’s.

“What do yo-“ Seriously, I have to quit feigning stupidity. It was no longer attractive, not even remotely funny. I realized this as Spencer’s fingers hovered above the individually wrapped blue bonbons and swift and sneaky as a mouse, his lithe fingers snatched the candy and stuffed them in his pocket, grabbing another bunch and storing them in the safety of the left one.

“Spencer!” I cried in hushed tones in between gritted teeth. “Spencer you fuck! What did you jus-“

“Don’t judge unless you’ve tried it. Do it and tell me how you feel. Go ahead.” Spencer looked calm as if nothing had happened with his hands on his sides and walking around, going near the chilled drinks isle either looking for interesting new products or thinking of a clever way to store it and where, my bet is on the latter.

“Spencer this is ridiculous!” I said standing right before the bon-bons which had been subtracted by about twenty or so. I wondered to myself, a moment of contemplation in a most unlikely place, when was the last time I did something fun? When was the last time I felt the exhilarating feeling of going against my better judgement and ended up enjoying it? I couldn’t remember, honestly. All I could recall was for a great part of my life I was little miss goody two shoes who never stayed up late, never went out with friends and stuffed herself in her room with books and movies and food. Little miss Mary Sue with a perfect little quiet life that was consistent at best, monotonous at worst, who stayed on the safe side never to even test the waters a little bit.

I thought of all this and it made me fucking sick. I couldn’t believe I was entering my early twenties without puking out of drunkenness, having sex with a stranger, or breaking the law. I contemplated my future in that very stall away from the CCTV mirror which would be spared of a view of me in a catatonic state ,  thinking about how I would grow up to be a 40 year old virgin who would die not knowing what tequila tasted like or believing that sex on the beach was actual copulation on the shores.

Or was I?”

I wasn’t totally jaded neither was I innocent. Sure I may have a shortage of life experiences worth telling to my grandchildren but I wasn’t totally clueless. I knew that if I wanted to do something, I could do it. I knew enough about it thanks to the thousands upon thousands of teen and women’s magazine articles about sex and drinking uploaded on the internet daily, not to mention the constant portrayals of which on movies and in books which I undoubtedly seen and read. So yes, despite my lack of experience, I did know a little something about being a bad girl and now was the perfect opportunity to test it.

Just do it. Just do it and get it over with. Just once. Just now. After this you are not to steal another thing again.

My fingers so tiny and short hovered and wiggled above the bon bons in a fit of sheer indecisiveness on whether to partake in this petty thievery that Spencer knew so well. It was now or never, I repeated in my head. I was going to do one remarkable albeit foolish thing in my youth that I was going to remember for all eternity until my bowels give out on my deathbed and my flesh rots for all eternity ten feet deep. I was never going to feel that excitement I had so long searched and craved for if I stayed safe. The only way to know is to try. Spencer was right. How are you going to know if you judge pre-emptively without giving it a shot?

Throwing all caution and common sense to the wind, I snatched up assumingly ten bon bons and stuffed them in my little handbag that had basically nothing but fare and phone which I hadn’t checked. Nobody was calling nor texting anyways, not even my mother. What she knew was I was sleeping over at a friend’s house after the party. If only she knew her precious little doll was out in a cheap convenience supermarket stuffing bon bons into her counterfeit Coach purse. While I did so, tightly zipping my bag, my eyes nervously darted left and right checking for any signs of clerks and stockers surveying the area, any customer who might  pass by and just catch me right in the act. My heart pounded violently, aggressively beating against my sternum, temperature raised despite the sudden downpour of rain, nervousness causing me to heat up and sweat little trickles on my temple. Spencer glanced at me over his shoulder and smiled.

“Good job.” He complimented under his breath. I stepped away from the bon bon stall and stood next to him, he who had already packed in two iced tea plastic bottles and three tiny bags of Lays. It amazed me how quick his hands were but what amazed me more was the jacket that was able to house how many things.

The chocolates were finally in my bag and I clung on to Spencer’s arm instinctively as the raw fear was still present within me, lingering like the odor of pollution in a street. Spencer was a sport, honestly, playing along and allowing my cold, perspiring hands to coil around his arm. We walked out of the store and Spencer glanced swiftly at the clerks and cashiers who were too busy with other customers to even care about us. Nobody noticed us, making me breathe a sigh of relief releasing finally all the air I had been holding in.

“See, we didn’t get caught!” Spencer cackled, becoming more alive and animated as we got into the car. I rattled still, rattling even more when alone with him. Together we pulled out the bon bons, the chips and the two bottles of iced tea and started out on our way.

“That was a very shitty thing to do! I am not doing that again!” I yelled at him, still a bundle of nerves. I was honestly angry at what he made me do, how he encouraged me to steal. How could it be that he was able to influence me to do something I didn’t want to do whereas I was never even able to talk him out of shoplifting.

“Because you knew deep down inside of you that you wanted to do it so you gave it a go. You were only putting on the ruse of not wanting to do it so people wouldn’t misinterpret you but in reality you wanted nothing more than to break away from what you’re used to.” My mouth hung open at Spencer’s statement. He looked at me and handed me a bon bon. “Eat some of this. It’ll help the nerves go down and you’ll feel better.”

“How the fuck did you know that? How did you know any of that!?” Gotta admit, dude spoke my very heart and soul. For a high school dropout who spent most of his time hustling in the streets and shoplifting in convenience stores (without violence, mind you, only sleight of hand), he was pretty intelligent and full of insight compared to collegiate boys I knew who didn’t even know philosophy from filtrum.

“You look the type. I’ve dealt with your kind before. ‘

“You did? What did you do with them?”

“Taught them the way.”

“Did they become you?”

“I don’t know. Most of them never talked to me again. I never made any good friends, you know?” I suddenly felt bad for him. I did and did not see why nobody gravitated towards him. Firstly because he looked like a complete psycho freak who would murder anyone that had an ill word for him, second because he was too clever for the commonplace man. What I did not understand was why didn’t anyone want to become friends with an intelligent person who was conventionally ugly? Has the world become this superficial that if you don’t live up to the Barbie standards you’re automatically outcast? Just goes to show that the hierarchy is still out there no matter where you go.

“I’d talk to you again.” I told him out of the blue. Spencer’s face softened, the roughness brought by hard years of rebellion momentarily fading away.

“You would?”

“Why not? You’re smart, entertaining, “talented”. Why wouldn’t anyone want to talk to you. I’d kill to have a friend like you, only I have no friends like you. And I don’t have friends.”

“Maybe we can be friends.” He suggested, his eyes roaming around my body. Oh, I knew that look. I might never have had a boyfriend before but I knew that look when I saw it.

Everything became exciting in that moment. If invincibility had a face it was mine. I felt invincible, untouchable, like I was above the law after what I had done. I basically got away with theft and was now miles away from Beta Mart, headed to a place I didn’t know and didn’t care to know. I was almighty and powerful, according to me, nothing could stop me. Nothing in this world could ever crush me because I had outsmarted the store and was not under suspicion-would never be. I was king of the world.

“Of course we can. You’re a cool guy, Spencer. You really are.”

“You think so?”


“You’re my friend now?”

“What did I just say?” Spencer’s smile that brought back the small child in him suddenly expanded into a grin of assuredness.

“Thanks. Nobody’s ever wanted to be my friend before.”

“What about Leonard? Isn’t he your friend?”

“You could say. But only up to a certain extent. Leonard can get pretty superficial at times though, not that it’s wrong. It’s just not my kind of thing.”

“Well what is your kind of thing?”

“This.” He nodded his head pertaining to our naughty little escapade. “Stealing, breaking rules, driving away in the night philosophizing Shakespeare with a pretty girl with a pretty Italian name. This is the essence of life for me. Just going out there and doing what you want.”

“Stealing isn’t so good, though. You can do what you want, surely. You are licensed to do that but when it breaks the law or hurts someone, that just crosses the line.”

“Well that’s my philosophy darling. Life is short so do as you please. If I get thrown in jail for it, then I do. Life is too short and unpredictable to keep worrying about petty things like fat cops who can’t run for shit and boring acquaintance parties your friend brings you to in an effort to ‘change’ you or to make you more ‘sociable’. Do as you please and don’t look back.” Spencer said.

“Certainly I won’t be stealing in the future, but I get your point. All my life I have spent living in a shell, shut away from the world because I was scared of failure, I was scared of being embarrassed. I always had to put on a good show-“

“You don’t have to do that. Early in life I realized that people are too hung up with their own lives to even care enough about yours. We can only glance, but we cannot see right through, we cannot stare. That’s about as long as our attention span for other people’s personal lives goes. So don’t feel like you always have to show people this, or show people that, or prove to them this, or prove to them that. If people think you’re cool, then you are. If they don’t, they don’t matter and leave them alone. It’s not your problem.” Spencer sighed exhausted from sharing his little principle with me.



“The people who care enough for you will love you no matter what so you don’t have to put on a silly mask to entertain them and please them. If you feel like you have to still do that, then it means they’re not the right people for you. Like those people at the party. To be able to be one with them I have to pretend that I’m a wild little rich kid who regularly goes to bars-I’m not that kinda kid neither do I want to be. But with you, I don’t know, I can tell you all this and you’re not judging me. So you’re worth it.”

“Wow.” I said in astonishment. It was surprising how a little crook like Spencer turned out to be more thoughtful and appreciative than my seemingly “educated” and “cultured” classmates. “Nobody’s ever told me that before.”

“Maybe because you’re mingling in the wrong crowd.”

That was the realisation that kickstarted the brand new silence.

The drive was long and tedious and the silence wasn’t helping. I decided to this time break the silence and ask him,

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a spot in Parcer’s Complex, a little parking lot of a plaza, where people park their cars and go stargazing. I know it’s a little corny but it’s night, we have plenty of stolen food, and we have nowhere to go so we might as well watch some stars.”

“Sounds great.” I told him, my heart racing at the romantic idea.

“You don’t have a curfew? Are you expected at home?”

“Nope. Told my mom I’m sleeping over at a friend’s.”

“Who friend? When I saw you earlier you were awkwardly talking to people. Those? You’re going to sleep in their house?”

“Actually,” I sighed. “I have money to pay for a motel. I’m staying at one.”

“You know,” the tone in Spencer’s voice changed along with the look on his face, one of an expectant, excited, hormone-raged adolescent. “I was able to steal some money from my aunt today. Would you like that idea instead?”

Oh boy, it was getting there. It was getting there and I was leading him to it. I was determined to make it.

“I’d rather go dutch. I’m staying at the cheapest and it’s 150 pesos per person. I have a thousand.” I winked at him. Spencer’s smile remained plastered on his face, permanently grinning.

“Where’s this motel?”

“That one!” I pointed to a red and blue 3 star motel named Chrysalis which was quite a long drive from our university.

“Can I ask you something?” asked Spencer. My heart raced once again-in fact it never stopped racing-it went on just beating and beating pumping blood throughout my veins. I was expecting Spencer to ask me to make love with him or even just a little kiss. I was strongly attracted to him at this point, his intelligence, his wisdom, his skill, his bravado. Everything about him was just so damn magnetizing that I couldn’t help but mentally salivate at the thought of his naked body. Yes, those naughty thoughts were already playing in my head and his affirmation that naughty thoughts were also running through his mind were all I needed.


“Can I kiss you?”

I am psychic!

It was now or never, I said. Gone were the days when I would wait for the guy to make the first move. I was going to show my bolder, more confident side and actually give him the liplock of a lifetime that would give him an erection sure to rip his thick denim jeans. Spencer was right. It was time to stop putting on a façade and just do what I wanted to do because in the end, we’re not gonna be sorry for our mistakes. We’re gonna be sorry for the chances we didn’t take.

“Not if I kiss you first. Come here,” Upon grabbing his cheek, Spencer swerved to a vacant unlit area and parked his car. I grabbed either side of his face and yanked him close to mine, crashing my lips with his and playfully inserting my tongue, aggressively kissing him, slobbering and sucking him while he groaned in ecstasy. I felt his tight grip around my waist, his strength manifesting when he slightly hoisted me from my seat and transferred me in front of him, my behind honking the horn as our bodies moved in perfect sensual harmony. Reclining his chair, Spencer got comfortable lying down while I moved in on top of him, continuing our rendezvous filled with saliva and hickeys invisible to all the world in a dark corner of a busy street.

It must’ve been hours already because our lovemaking felt like an eternity. We moved apart from each other with dishevelled hair and sticky, sweaty bodies, perspiration coating our garments. I crawled back to my seat and buckled my seatbelt while Spencer straightened out his seat and re-started the car, us driving down the highway hyperventilating, catching our breath, panting with happy grins on our faces, the look of sheer satisfaction, I the more satisfied of the two having finally crossed out something on my to-do list, or should I say “Rules to Break” list. Number One Rule to Break: Don’t Have Sex with a Random Good Looking (er, at least in my eyes) Stranger.

“So where’s that motel again, baby? Maybe you got room for another.” He tempted me comically by raising his eyebrows rapidly and lowering his eyelids in an attempt to seduce me. It did work though, but if you ask me I had better options in my mind.

“You know what, I’m kinda not in the mood to sleep right now. I think…I think I wanna do something else.” I said sinisterly with a smirk on my face, a habit I had adapted from the short hours we had been together.  Spencer, the almighty master of the smirking answer, caught my drift and understood immediately the idea I had concocted in my brain.

“I think I have an idea what you want to do.” he spoke. “I told you, do it once, you’ll do it again.”

I pointed my finger at a mini-mart a few miles away from Beta Mart. This place was littered with convenience stores, I’m telling you. There’s one in literally every block, every stop. The one I pointed to was yellow and green in colour, the hues of organic and eco-friendly. I wasn’t one who loved organic food and I hated it as much as your average consumer but I was famished from all that good dry humping that I needed to find the quickest refilling station.

“Swerve on over there, Spencer. We could use a little grub.”




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