He took my hand and lead me into the kitchen, pulled down two beautiful glasses and popped a champagne cork. Tipped some into each glass. He asked “...arling, can you please pop into the lounge and put some music on? I’d love to dance.” I flitted out of the kitchen, forgetting all about the slightly too tight chain around my thin throat.He met me in the lounge, placing our glasses on the table. We danced to a few songs, and sat down and shared our wine. We were chatting peacefully, when I started. " I say not really getting what he's asking. "Come on know bitchez like you. Your type ALWAYS got someone comin' back for some dick." he said walking closer to me. Just who the FUCK does this guy think he is? "Quinn, I got morals. I dont go around fuckin' anything and everything that walks and gotta hole like you and your buddies do. So fuck off." I was pissed. This man no longer looked desirable anymore.I went to get up from my seat, but he pushed me back down. "I said back the fuck off dude!". More

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