Chapter 1
slut(slʌt/)noun:.derogatory
1. a woman who has many casual sexual partners.
synonyms:promiscuous woman;
2.a woman with low standards of cleanliness
S for Sex:.
The music roared into my ears, the sound itself enough to make me want to head home and nurse my oncoming headache.
My glossy eyes gazed across the surroundings, trying to recognise at least one familiar face.
To my right, I saw a couple, or at least, what I assumed to be a couple.
The girl pushed up against the wall, eyes closed, mouth ajar as the boy peppered sloppy kisses over her exposed neck.
His hands were wandering, leaving no part of her untouched.
Feeling the bile come up in my throat, I quickly glanced away.
I wasn't here for free pornography.
To my other side was a table with a dozen types of alcoholic beverages scattered over it - which was just as well because I had not indulged into buying my own for the occasion.
Almost instantly, I found myself making my way over towards the bottles of gold.
Might as well get pissed whilst I was here.
My gaze fixated onto the stacks of unused plastic cups placed next to the bottles and without further thought, my hand reached out to grab the closest one, along with the closest bottle, pouring some of the liquid into the cup, making up the remainder with lemonade.
I didn't particularly care what I drank tonight, what I did care about however was that I dranksomething.
Placing my red-tinted lips along the rim of the cup, I tipped my head back and took a long gulp.
The liquid burned in my throat; a good kind of burn.
The kind that kept me longing for more.
Licking my lips in content, I bought the cup up to my mouth once more; relishing in the anticipation of losing control.
I needed to lose control tonight.
My eyes kept casting over towards the area everyone had decided was the designated 'dance floor', I was never one to dance, often feeling extremely self -conscious about the placement of my arms, but suddenly, I found the urge to move my hips to the rhythm of the music.
I wanted to sway my hands to the beat and grind on some random stranger.
I wanted to live for one night.
I wanted to feel alive.
"What's a pretty lady like you doing by herself?" It was a smooth, velvety voice that broke me out of my thoughts.
Turning to the source of the voice, my sights landed on a blonde who was grinning down at me.
He was, by no doubt, handsome.
His hair messed up and shagging slightly over his eyes, the light colour paired up with the slight tan suggesting that he spent most of his time outdoors.
His jawline sharp and eyes twinkling, he was almost too good to be true.
"Does that work on every girl you've tried it on?" I asked, one eyebrow rising up, a small smile taking over my features.
"Why don't you tell me?
You're the only one I've used it on." His grin was overwhelming.
He was lying.
He had to be.
But I was charmed nonetheless.
Maybe that was my mistake.
"Want to dance?" He asked, placing one hand in front of me.
My eyes washed back over to the dance floor.
Alive.
Taking his hand, a slurred giggle escaped my lips, "I would love to."
My inability to handle my alcohol results in my actions becoming sluggish, but that didn't deter the mysterious stranger.
His hands gripped my waist as he guided me towards the music.
His grip was tight, and I didn't want him to let go.
It felt like we had been dancing for hours, days even.
His proximity was intoxicating.
His touch making me feel dizzy.
I didn't know who he was, or why he felt that way, but I didn't want it to stop.
"Want to get out of here?" His voice a whisper, tickling the skin of my ear, I had to suppress the urge to let out another giggle.
I could merely nod.
His hands enclosed over mine as he led me through the throngs of people, past the crowds and to an empty room.
"This okay?" He asked, his forehead touching mine, his fingertips tracing small circles onto my sides.
Through my hazy vision, I saw his lips coming closer and closer, leaving barely any space between them.
"It's ok," I confirmed, my lips brushing against his as I made my statement.
My body was pumped up in anticipation.
I could get drunk all over again just from his presence.
His lips closed over mine, slow at first but then hasty with need.
He was slowly steering me backwards until I hit a hard ledge and my legs gave out, pulling both of us down.
A squeak of surprise passed my lips but was soon muffled by the movement of his.
One blink through the darkness and I could see myself surrounded by a queen-sized bed.
My eyes closed again, on their own accord this time as I tangled my fingers through his silky hair and arched my back, trying to get closer to him- as if I wasn't close enough already.
His lips moved onto the base of my neck, his mouth slowly sucking on the delicate skin causing a gasp to sound the room.
His mouth was drugging me.
Pure ecstasy running through my veins.
I was putty in his hands.
The hands that worked on the buttons of my blouse, freeing my body for his hungry eyes.
His mouth instantly began working on the exposed skin, leaving me writhing.
A soft moan escaped my lips.
I could hardly believe it was me, it didn't sound like me.
But that didn't matter.
'Me' was the last thing I wanted to be tonight.
If only I'd known that he was otherwise already taken.
L for Lust:.
I never found out his name after that night.
But that didn't mean I stopped looking.
It had been two days since that day and I was already beggining to crave his touch.
I wanted his lips on me.
I wanted his hands to trace my body, to run his fingertips along every edge and curve.
I wanted to repeat that night.
Cringing, I rested my head against the hard surface of the table.
I was starting to sound like a horny, sex-deprived woman.
I was never one to be fascinated by sex.
I didn't go out looking for a hook up every weekend and I almost certainly had never felt like I needed it more than the oxygen my lungs drank in to let me breathe.
So why was this stranger making me feel things, want things that I had never longed for before.
I was no stranger to sex either.
I've had a few boyfriends in the past but the sex was always mediocre.
Pleasant at best.
It was always the anticipation, the wait, that had me excited.
But that never lasted.
Shaking my head again, I chewed onto my pencil, trying to find something worth writing. I couldn't let this interfere with my work.
I had to forget about him.
And that, I would do.
U for Undesirable:.
Walking through the busy corridoors of the school building reminded me just why I hated this place.
It was noisy and crowded.
Even suffocating at times.
The strong pointless chatter of people often leaving me with a throbbing headache by the end of the day.
But it was the one place where I felt safe.
I may not belong here, I may be the girl who doesn't get a second glance, the girl who seemed average in every way possible but that didn't matter to me.
I had friends here, people who loved me.
To me, that meant the world.
My gaze lingered at the open classroom, my legs instantly making their way towards it.
That was, until a hard hand pushed me back, causing me to stumble slightly before regaining my balance and looking straight at the person who pushed me.
Before I could make a noise of protest, a harsh sound rung through my ears, the echo nearly deafening, almost causing my eyes to close.
It was only the stinging sensation on my cheek that rendered me wide eyed and staring in shock at the raven haired beauty before me.