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It was probably one of the worst dates you had in a very long while. The guy only kept talking about himself, his job and his projects, and you thought you’ve never felt that bored before. Bored and… Unimportant? No, but really… It was so bad that at some point you had to lie to him about some emergency at home in order to escape.
A part of you is relieved now that it’s finally over, but on the other hand it’s terribly frustrating. It’s the fourth man you’ve gone out with this month and nothing clicks. Actually it’s more like the opposite - each guy seems to be even worse than the previous one. Or… Maybe it’s not just them? Maybe there’s something wrong with you? Yeah, right, self-love and self-respect, you know that, but still the question lingers in the back of your mind. Maybe the problem is that you started dating a bit too soon? But it’s been months since your breakup, and you thought you were ready. You’re realistic enough to not expect to fall in love at first sight with a beautiful prince charming, but so far no one even made you want to go on a second date. And well… Dating is exhausting after all - you try hard to look pretty, to make a good impression, and for what? Shit, maybe you’re simply not meant to be with someone?..
Drowning in these troubled thoughts, you found yourself at Griff’s Tattoos porch again, as if your feet brought you there against your own will. You’re not sure why you’re doing this and what you’re expecting, but after a moment of hesitation you reach the doorknob and push.
“Good ev- Oh. Hey there, darlin’!” the man grins widely as he recognizes you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Didn’t think I’m ever gonna see ya here again.”
“Hey, Griff,” you say simply with a faint smile on your lips, as you walk in.
“So, uh… You want another tattoo?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” he frowns, dark brown eyes roaming up and down your body, taking in you outfit and makeup. “You look freakin’ gorgeous, by the way. Some special event?”
“I had a date.”
“A date, really?” his eyebrows raise in amusement. “You don’t seem to be very happy ‘bout that.”
“I’m not,” you sigh as you walk to the already familiar desk and sit right on the tabletop.
“No?” Griff comes closer, looking at you intently, trying to catch your gaze. “Why’s that?”
“Maybe dating’s just not my thing,” you mutter with a shrug of your shoulders. “Or maybe he’s just too dull and self-centered. Or… I’m just tired.”
“D’you want me uh… to make you forget ‘bout that shit, like last time?”
Griff’s hand reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face. Unconsciously, you lean into his touch.
“Maybe.”
Griff’s kiss is exactly the same as you remember - fierce and deep, and stealing the breath out of your lungs. It tastes like fruit bubble gum, which feels a bit weird to you - a guy with such a brutal appearance, his kisses must be like whiskey and cigarettes or at least like black coffee or something, but there’s this sweet fruity taste, and even though it’s strange, it’s not unpleasant. Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers caressing the shaved back of his head as you melt into the kiss, let the pleasant warmth of it wash over you, pushing all the frustrating thought away for a while.
Griff’s hands skim up your thighs, slowly pushing up the skirt of your dress.
“Hmm… Are those stockings?” he purrs against your lips. “That’s sexy as fuck, you know that, huh? Can I get a closer look?”
Without waiting for your answer, he drops on his knees, and soon you feel his teeth grazing against the tender skin above the hem of your stockings as he leaves a series of nips and bites on the inside of your thighs. The scratch of his beard makes you shiver, and all of this, especially seeing him between your legs like that turn you on so much you can barely hold a desperate moan.
“Just… Fuck me already, Griff… Stop playing,” you let out a shaky breath, writhing impatiently.
“Oooh, that’s how we’re talking now,” he quips. “No more hints, no maybes, just straight up to the point, are we?”
“You really have to be an ass right now?” you huff snappishly through gritted teeth.
“Relax, princess. M’ gonna fuck you just right,” he smirks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. “Wanna see what else I can do?”
“Surprise me.”
He chuckles at your request, his big hands already reaching to tug your panties down.
“Thank god there’s no fuckin’ shoelaces this time,” he murmurs as you simply shake your shoes off your feet to let him get rid of your underwear. Pushing your legs apart, Griff wastes no time, parting your folds with his thumbs and licking a long hot strip along your slit.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, hips twitching as his tongue meets your clit before diving deeper to taste your arousal.
This man’s tongue really works wonders - alternating between sucking harshly on your clit and light teasing flicks against its tip, he gets you on cloud nine in no time, you’re almost embarrassed at how fast it happens. Your legs are shaking as you come down from your high, trying to catch a breath. Griff’s beard is glistening with your juices when he’s crushing his lips on yours again, while he blindly reaches to fish the condom out of his back pocket.
There’s this pleasant, satisfying weariness in your body once everything is over, and you wish you could simply enjoy this warm post-orgasmic bliss, but your brain once again doesn’t let you do it, one stupid thought bothering you for some reason.
“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Griff asks as he tucks himself back into his pants. “If you’re uh… feeling guilty for using me for sex or something - don’t worry, I’m more than okay with that.”
“Actually… I was wondering if you treat all your female customers like that,” you tell him honestly.
“Huh?” he cocks his eyebrow in surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“Oh I don’t know,” you shrug. “But somehow you always have condoms in your pocket.”
“You say it like it’s a bad fuckin’ thing.”
“It’s not, but it makes me think you don’t mind fucking around.”
“Yeah, so what? Maybe I do love fuckin’ around, you’re right, but I don’t… Sleep with customers on a regular basis, if that’s what you think. Who am I, a fucking gigolo?”
“Fine,” you raise your hands in a surrendering gesture. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you, really.”
“Look, I’d never insist on anything if I wasn’t sure you wanted that too,” he continues in a calmer tone.
“Uhh… Okay, and… Why’d you think I wanted it? I mean… Back then, when I first came here.”
“Oh come on! There was this thing between us, you know, like… A spark.”
“A spark?..” you try to suppress an amused chuckle, as it's definitely not something you expected to hear from him.
“Yeah! Or whatever you fucking call it… Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. You kissed me first, remember?”
“Right. But before kissing you I actually seriously considered slapping you.”
“But you didn’t!” he gives you a triumphant grin. “See, that’s what I’m sayin'. The spark.”
“Okay, you won,” you admit, because you really have nothing to say against it. Let it be a spark. “I guess I have to go,” you say quickly, not wanting the awkward silence to settle in.
“Wait, uh… Listen, I was thinking, you… Maybe you wanna grab a couple of beers in the pub ‘round the corner?” Griff suddenly suggests, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I…” you clear your throat, taken aback by his invitation. “Sorry, but I just think another date would already be too much for one evening.”
“Jesus, woman! Why’d you have to label every goddamn thing?” he snorts, rolling his eyes. “Date… Fuck it. It’s just… Shit, I just wanna hang out with you some more, that’s all. Thought you enjoy my company as well, so…” he trails off with a soft chuckle, and you suddenly think… What if he’s right? Maybe you just tend to overthink the whole dating thing too much? It’s true in fact - you enjoy Griff’s company, despite his ridiculous tattoos and the amount of swear words he says every time he gets to speak. At least with him you don’t have to think of making a good impression, you can… Just simply be yourself. That actually sounds pretty nice.
“Yeah, what the hell. I’d love to grab a beer with you.”