We drink, we smoke, we dance. Loud music, pretty people, dizzy night.
No rules. No dads. Just lust. Touching bodies. Tingling hands. Having fun.
You place your hand perfectly on my lower back. Pressing hard. Slowly sliding down. No. I repeat stop. But you don’t.
Trying to release myself. Only achieve being pushed further towards you. Please. I beg. But my pleadings are like bad jokes you don’t laugh at.
Another night out. Supposed to have fun. Ending up being cursed for being a woman, who will always be seen as a prey of a man.