Twenty minutes of conversation and three drinks later, Nichole is almost 99.9% sure that she's going home with Ademar Rodriguez tonight.

Before renting out a private room with him on the second floor of the club (in order to have some privacy and also get to know him a little better because he's actually interesting), Nichole had wrongfully assumed that her good-looking dance partner was nothing but a pretty face and suitable candidate for what would hopefully be one hell of a one-night stand.

After sitting down and actually speaking with Ademar, however, Nichole is pleased to find out just how wrong she'd been about the man... a very handsome looking man who has yet to stop eyeing her like she's a tempting piece of cherry pie that he can't wait to bite into.

"So, you're a construction manager? Tell me something, do you stand by on the sidelines and shout orders at your workers all day, or do you actually go out and get your hands dirty with them?" Nichole flirts, pausing for a bit to take another sip of the fancy champagne that Ademar paid for. "I assume you've gotten your hands dirty at some point, right?"

Ademar chuckles, peeping Nichole's game from a mile away. He boldly reaches over to lightly tangle his fingers with Nichole's free hand that rests between them on the loveseat they're sharing. Although the room isn't warm by any means, Nichole can't help but feel insanely hot all over.

"Occasionally, yes, for certain projects I do go out and join my men in the field. And you'd assume right that I have gotten my hands dirty before, plenty of times, and in various ways. Speaking of which, I'll have you know I'm very good with my hands... and also with my mouth, my tongue..."

"Okay! You can stop right there. I'll let you know if or when I need a demonstration." Nichole giggles, feeling absolutely smitten. She sets her drink aside before dragging her eyes back to her and Ademar's conjoined hands. "I like how you say exactly what's on your mind," she whispers. "You have no filter. Most guys are so focused on trying to make sure they say the right thing in hopes of getting some play by the end of the night that they forget to live in the moment and just be themselves. You're refreshing. I appreciate that."

"And I appreciate you in this dress," Ademar smoothly replies. He takes his free hand to reach over and playfully tug at the hem of the tight lacy material, his hand dangerously close to Nichole's throbbing center. "A little short for my liking, but sexy as hell nonetheless."

Nichole raises a brow. "Don't tell me you're the type who likes to police what your woman wears."

"Not at all." Ademar pulls his hands back, his other one still holding onto Nichole's. "My woman can wear whatever she wants... but when it comes to other men looking at her in ways that might cross a line they know they shouldn't be crossing, I'd like to think that I can't be entirely faulted for kicking someone's ass when they step to her the wrong way. That's all I'm saying."

"So, in conclusion, you're the jealous type?"

"No. Just protective of what's mine." Ademar winks.

"You sound... very secure with yourself. Are you really? Or is this just a front that you're putting on for me right now?" Nichole can see the figurative red flags being raised behind Ademar, but feeling horny and knowing they'll probably never meet again after tonight, she ignores them and scoots closer to him, draping her legs across his lap.

Ademar laughs. "Mírame (look at me). Why would I ever need to feel insecure?"

"Alright, Mr. Cocky." Nichole rolls her eyes, laughing with him. "I'm just trying to get a better feel of you, that's all. My ex was super insecure and also the jealous type, hence why he's now my ex."

"From the way that your pretty eyes just darkened from speaking on him, I can't even begin to imagine just how big of a fuck-up he was," Ademar says, running a hand up and down one of Nichole's smooth legs. His touch sets her brown skin on fire. "I promise I'm nothing like him, sweetheart. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'll only ever make you feel good."

"I... I want that," Nichole speaks before thinking, too turned on to feel embarrassed about it. "I want to feel good again."

"Then ask me, baby. Give me permission and I'll give you pleasure."

Ademar's words make Nichole shudder. She reflexively clenches between the thighs, her pussy aching for a one on one meeting with his cock. Ademar's eyes are hot and focused. He's as still as a statue, not making any sudden movements as he continues to hold Nichole's gaze. Ademar is putting the ball in Nichole's court, wanting her to make the final move before he swoops in to deliver the slam dunk.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" Ademar teases, leaning closer. "Come on. Say what's on your mind. Tell me what you want. I can see it on your face, but I want to hear you speak it instead."

"Kiss me. Make me feel good... Please?" Nichole throws caution to the wind after saying the words, not caring whether she regrets this later or not.

Bonnie had sent her a text earlier letting her know that she had left with the man that she'd been downstairs dancing with. Knowing her and her patience, she's probably somewhere parked on the side of the road right now fucking on him in the backseat of his car. If Bonnie can have her fun tonight, surely Nichole can as well.

"Come closer then, gorgeous. Let me feel you." Ademar pulls Nichole onto his lap, handling her like she weighs nothing. Her dress rides up her thick thighs as her legs rest on either side of Ademar's body. He looks Nichole dead in the eyes when he slips his hands underneath her dress, grabbing her ass. He then tilts his chin up slightly, looking ready to be kissed as he whispers, "Use me, baby. Take whatever you want from me."

And that she does.

Nichole's lips are on Ademar's within seconds. She moans into the filthy kiss as it deepens, their tongues quickly becoming acquainted with one another.

And as Ademar goes to slide Nichole's thong aside to play with her properly, she doesn't stop him. She encourages him to keep going. She immediately begins to ride his two fingers once they're inside of her dripping wet core. Nichole throws her head back and cries out when Ademar ups the pace, sucking on her neck while pleasuring her down below.

It's at this moment for when it dawns on Nichole that she's been severely missing out in the romance department. Fucking on a toy or even using her own fingers on herself doesn't and will never equate to the feel of someone else bringing her to an orgasm.

Nichole unashamedly yells Ademar's name as she cums, her nails digging into his shoulders as she's thrust into a rocky sea of ecstasy. She cums quickly and loudly but she feels so goddamn blissed out by the end of it that she doesn't even care that a complete stranger now knows what she looks like when she climaxes. Nichole smiles into the kisses that Ademar delivers as she slowly comes down from her orgasmic high.

"That was just the first round, baby girl. Come home with me tonight and I'll show you what else I can do with these fingers, if you're up for it..." Ademar pushes his hips upwards, letting Nichole feel just how hard she has him. "What do you say?"

"Okay." Nichole smiles, wholly lost in lust. "Take me home. Impress me."

There's only one thing on Nichole's mind right now, making-the-right-decisions be damned because she isn't slowing down until she gets it. 

All eight inches of it.