Scream For me

MAKE ME BEG

MADISON

I look in the mirror at my ridiculously short, black dress and wonder for the millionth time what in the fuck I’m doing. I miss the comfort of my jeans and baggy sweatshirt. I prefer to hide behind my clothes, not strut around half naked on full display. I tug the thin fabric up, trying to cover my tits, but there’s no hiding them. Turning around, I peek over my shoulder and groan at how damn short the dress is. I bend over a little as a test and cringe at the way my pink panties are clearly visible, showing my little pussy in a scandalous peek-a-boo every time I move my hips.

I stand back up and tug my dress down. “I can’t go out in this,” I say, making Becca, my best friend, laugh and swat me on the ass.

“Oh yes you can.” She gives me a wink in the mirror. “We’re getting you laid tonight.”

I laugh because Becca is even more obsessed with my virginity than I am. All through high school she was trying to set me up with guys and get my cherry popped, but I just wasn’t interested in any of them. I know it’s probably stupid, but I want to wait until I find someone who knocks me on my ass. I want the heat, the spark, the instant wet pussy when I meet his eyes. Becca thinks I’m nuts and way too picky, but I don’t care. I know my mysterious, sexy man is out there. I just haven’t found him yet.

Becca’s right about one thing, though. I’m never going to find my dream man sitting at home binge watching shows, which is exactly what I’ve been doing since I turned eighteen several months ago. I need to get my ass out there, and this dress is guaranteed to make that happen.

“Fine,” I say, giving her a smile. “Let’s go out to this new club, but no promises on getting laid.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She runs her eyes over me one last time before handing me a pair of heels that will probably have me breaking an ankle in no time. She raises an eyebrow at me when I hesitate. “Sometimes you need to kick fate in the ass, Madison, and these are definitely the shoes for the job.”Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

She’s right. I know she’s right, and truth be told, I’m sick to death of being a virgin. I’m so desperate for cock I could scream. It’s getting harder and harder to resist just giving in and having a random one-night stand and being done with it. One more night, I tell myself as I put on the heels. If I don’t find him tonight, then I’m fucking the first good-looking guy I see tomorrow. Screw that. I’m fucking the first passably decent guy I see tomorrow. I’m ready to be done with this. I think my parents are having the roof fixed tomorrow. If I fail tonight, maybe that guy will get to hammer in a lot more than just nails.

When I’m teetering on my heels, I turn to look at myself in the mirror one last time. Damn, she wasn’t kidding. These heels were designed to get a lady fucked. They add several inches to my height and make my legs look pretty fucking good.

“Okay, you may have been right about these,” I admit to a gloating Becca.

“Damn straight. Now, let’s go get you laid.”

She grabs my arm and leads me down the hall and out the door before my parents can catch a glimpse of our super slutty outfits. We take her car since it’s nicer than mine and head downtown to the Lion’s Den. It just opened up last year, and it’s the hottest fucking club in town. It’s also the only one that lets you in at eighteen. I’ve avoided it like the damn plague, though. I’m not sure why. I guess it’s because Becca always came back with wild stories of random hook-ups and it made me feel like even more of a weirdo since I couldn’t join in the fun. When we drive past it to get to the parking garage across the street, I let out a groan at the long line I see winding down the block.

“Relax,” Becca says with a laugh. “With outfits like these, we won’t be waiting in line.”

I think she’s lost her mind, but I don’t argue. I’m trying too hard to remain calm. I’m suddenly nervous and feeling like a complete jackass. What the hell was I thinking? I’d caught a good enough glimpse of the women waiting in line, and they all looked way hotter than me.

We walk across the street, and when I start to head to the back of the line, Becca grabs my arm and leads me to the front door where two very large, very angry looking bouncers block the entrance. I try not to cower beneath their hard, impenetrable stares. Becca just tosses her blonde curls over her shoulder and gives them a sexy grin they can’t ignore. Or maybe it’s the massive amount of cleavage they can’t ignore or the seductive shake of her hips. Either way, all eyes are on her.

“This is the kind of welcome a girl could get used to,” she says, walking up to them and laying an arm on the one closest. “You’re not going to make us wait in that long line are you?”

I want to roll my eyes at the show she’s putting on. I’m used to her using her looks to get whatever the hell she wants, but that doesn’t make me completely immune to how damn embarrassing it can be sometimes, especially when I’m the one who gets the angry looks that she’s too oblivious to notice. The women who were first in line are glaring daggers at me. I shoot them an I’m sorry, this really wasn’t my idea look, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Becca waves me over and I quickly dig out my ID for burly man number one. He scans it and then runs his eyes over my body in a way that makes me wish I was wearing way more clothes than I am.

“Give me your hand, beautiful,” he says, and I try not to cringe at the way he’s eyeing me. I lift my hand and his meaty paw grips onto me while he stamps me with a large “Under 21” stamp, officially branding me so I can’t buy alcohol, not that I was planning on it anyway. I’m stressed out enough tonight. No way in hell am I adding illegal drinking to the mix. I pull my hand away as soon as I can and quickly follow Becca into the dark nightclub.

Music pulses loudly, vibrating up from the damn floor. My eyes dart everywhere, taking everything in. The place looks amazing. There’s a bar running the whole length of one wall, and that whole area is portioned off with a bouncer keeping anyone with a stamped hand out. The dance floor is huge and packed and another section on the right is filled with tables and beautiful waitresses in skimpy outfits dropping off sodas and water to all the sweaty underage kids. I raise my eyes and see an upper level. I strain my eyes, searching the darkness and swear I see movement, but I can’t make out what it is.

“This place is packed tonight,” Becca squeals in my ear, breaking my attention from whatever the hell I thought I saw. “Lots of good-looking guys to choose from, Maddie!”