This all took place in Los Angeles, of course, right after Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber had very publicly broken up. His “peeing in buckets” era, if that rings a bell for you.
I was a bit in love with a very beautiful girl, my friend Naomi Larbi, who lived in Los Angeles and was working as a model. We had actually first met in NYC on OkCupid while we were both going to college in the city. We got pizza together and made out in her bed the month before she moved back to LA. A year had passed; I had moved to San Francisco and just started working as an escort. A client had flown me down to Los Angeles for a night and I decided to stay the week.
We met for coffee at Urth Caffe. She looked impossibly chic in a black sleeveless turtleneck and black cigarette pants, her elegant head shaved, long dark fingers languidly stroking her phone while she waited for me. I called out her name and we hugged, kissed, and went to pick out our snacks.
“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked her as we walked around West Hollywood, aimlessly drifting in and out of boutiques.
“Well, I want to hang out with my roommate, if that’s alright,” she said, showing me a photo on Facebook, “I’m sort of in love with her. We share a bed and it’s driving me a little crazy.”
I laughed and said alright.
I hopped in her car and she drove us back to her place. Naomi was born and raised in LA, so she drove like a complete maniac. We were passing cars on the shoulder, cutting people off left and right, doing 60 in a 30, and even briefly passing a car by hopping up on the sidewalk. I was laughing the whole time.
We sat in the kitchen with her roommate as the two of them scrolled and texted, trying to find the best party that Saturday night.
“Oh,” the girl, a shimmering and slender blonde, said, “Justin Bieber is having his birthday party tonight. I’m friends with his security, they’ll let us in.”
I cringed. I hated Bieber, probably in part because it always seemed like he was my top competition. Beautiful girls I had crushes on would gush over how cute he was, when really I wanted them to be gushing over me.
“I hate Bieber,” I said.
Naomi’s friend looked at me like I was out of my mind.
“I’ve been in love with him since I was thirteen…” she said, almost moaning, “I think if I could meet him, I could really help him… He’s so heartbroken after that bitch Selena…”
I tried to picture this girl soothing Bieber’s soul and simply couldn’t. He was at peak chaos, getting fucked up in public and starting fights with both the police and the paparazzi. I imagined that the party would be full of girls trying to soothe Bieber’s heartbreak. Bad vibes.
“He probably needs better friends,” I mused, but this girl ignored me. She had made up her mind to go, and Naomi was in love with her, so Naomi was going, and I was in love with Naomi, so of course I had to come along as well.
The birthday party was in some nightclub in WeHo. We were all underage, so they took us around the back and snuck us in. We navigated our way to the VIP area; judging us to be hot enough, the bouncer lifted the velvet rope. Naomi’s roommate immediately began scanning for Bieber. She was very tall, so she was able to spot him a few yards away surrounded by his posse.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing our arms and yanking us through the throng. It was mostly women, curvy, beautiful, and short with pretty eyes and generous lips. He’s got a type, I thought. I made a bemused face at Naomi and she smiled playfully. Her roommate positioned us close to the Biebs. By the look on her face, I could tell she had thought he would be taller. He looked sad, morose, clutching a drink while his boys whispered into his ear. Regardless, Naomi’s roomie began her dance, which I imagine was meant to be seductive but judged as embarrassingly middle school. I closed my eyes, mentally wished her luck and turned to Naomi.
Naomi’s face was glowing from the warmth and our movement. I pulled her to me and kissed her, leaning in so that the softness of our breasts pressed together. She laughed into the kiss, low and pleasurable, before gently sliding her tongue between my lips. I turned and began to gyrate my ass on her crotch, took her hands and placed them just on my hips. Her fingers pressed into the soft flesh just above my hip bones before she slid the top of a long finger underneath the top of my skirt and into my underwear, teasing her way across my stomach.
I turned again so that I was facing her and kissed her harder; her finger made its way lower and gently pressed between my labia. I could feel her smile on my cheek as she felt just how wet I was. I suddenly became aware that there was someone moving against me from behind. I turned and saw that it was Justin, his arms lifted by his side as he slowly circled his hips, his ass pressing into mine.
It was certainly not what I was expecting from the night, but I suspended for a moment the animosity I felt towards Justin and his hold on the ladies and let myself enjoy the music, Naomi inside me, and the stranger pressed against me in the club.
More recently, I went for a walk in a rose garden with a lover while the roses were at the height of their blooms. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, the ground still cool from that morning’s rain. The air suffused with the scent of the flowers, somehow both delicate and heady. We sat on a bench together and I kissed her; it was one of those perfect moments that seemed plucked out of a movie. The sun’s rays gently embraced us and as I closed my eyes I heard a wind chime ringing in the distance with the birds. I made a playlist for her to try to capture the moment; since many of you liked the previous playlist so much, I figured I might as well share it with all of you.