Par Jo Lee
Apparently, there were plenty of advantages of dressing like a 5-star escort. Luxurious cars along les Champs D’elysees stopped and honked during Jennifer’s seemingly long walk-of-shame according to Laurent and fashion runway according to Jen. She was strutting her stuff so hard, Tyra Banks would have to book her pronto to give some lessons to the new cycle of amateur models. She blamed the alter ego on the shoes, although it could have easily been the dress, or the accessories. She was causing traffic and she loved it. French men all of shapes, sizes and colors were blatantly staring at her. All she needed was a dauphine’s title and she would’ve truly felt like a reigning beauty queen. At the club entrance, the bouncer kept stuttering and eventually got flustered with himself and just let them all in, without even checking for I.D. The people standing in line behind them whined but he wasn’t about to stop them now. They were already halfway in the club, now being gawked at from the interior. Larry had brought along some of his friends that Jen hadn’t met before. She could tell they were all begging Larry to introduce them. Laurent swooped her off to the dance floor as Larry stood back with his friends, dancing in their little group. He was grinding a little too close and Jen felt her dress constantly riding up. Laurent placed his hands right on her butt, using the placement to push her hips into his grinding pelvis. Feeling her hormones take over, Jen tried to distance herself from his rhythmic body but Laurent’s grasp on her was firm and ardent. She felt his finger wander through her curly hair and suddenly felt a tinge of nervousness that he might come across one of her extension pieces. There was nothing glamorous about a weave on the floor, be it due to uncontrollable passion or not. If he felt the track, he didn’t seem bothered. His face was now next to hers, his tall and slim body slightly lowered to accommodate her frame. In heels, they were close in height but he closed to gap by leaning into her. By the time the song changed, their tongues were deeply intertwined and their heavy breaths mingled with the fast tempo of the beat being blasted. Jen ceased hearing the song, stopped feeling the discomfort of her crushed toes in her sky-high pumps, stopped thinking about the world outside their bubble. She was completely unconscious of all the people staring at the couple furiously making love to each other with their tongues in public view. Normally, she’d have been embarrassed but in the euphoric moment, she felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A few minutes went by, lost in a world of physical bliss, when she felt a thump vibrate near her body. She opened her eyes and saw that Larry had given Laurent a hard slap on the back. Perhaps he had meant it to be playful but it landed so hard that she actually felt the vibration of the thump transmitted from Laurent. Laurent winced and pushed his brother playfully. Larry lectured him, saying he should come dance instead of wasting his time. Jennifer’s furrowed eyebrows said she didn’t appreciate the comment.
“He’s playing,” Laurent remarked, grabbing her hips.
“Wasting your time…wow that’s mean,” she said. She looked too good to let a stupid comment ruin her mood but she couldn’t help but wonder how little respect Larry must have had for her to say something of the sort.
“My brother, he likes to play. Don’t be mad. He just wants me to dance!” he replied, smiling like there was no harm in Larry’s comment.
“So go dance!” With that, Jennifer turned on her heel and moved quickly through to crowd to reach the center of the dance floor. She didn’t come for drama, she was diet drama herself and she wasn’t about to start it or condone it. She let the music move her instead of moving to the music. A seductive song was playing and before long, her body was moving sensually, attracting a new dance partner as quickly as she’d lost her last one who was now staring at her with envious eyes.