Welcome to the Innocent World

John swept the waitress into his arms, her laughter ringing through the open bar as he carried her away. I barely noticed. My attention was elsewhere.

When I turned back, Afa was looking at me. Our eyes met, and the world seemed to narrow, everything else falling away. Her face was framed by strands of dark hair that had fallen loose, giving her an ethereal beauty that made my chest tighten.

I swallowed hard.

"Austin..." she said softly, her voice like a gentle melody cutting through the hum of the bar.

My gaze wandered—no, lingered—taking in every detail. Her glossy pink lips glistened under the soft lights, the subtle curve of her cleavage peeking through her dress, her crossed legs drawn tight, accentuating her smooth, exposed thighs. She shifted slightly, and my pulse kicked up a notch. Her eyes were a pool I wanted to drown in, her neck an elegant line that invited every thought I shouldn't be having.

"Afa..." I breathed her name, barely audible.

Her lips curved into a smile, a small but devastatingly effective gesture. "How are you doing?" she asked, her tone casual, though her gaze stayed locked on mine.

The noise of the bar rushed back in, jarring me from the trance I hadn't realized I was in. I blinked, my thoughts stumbling as if I'd just woken from a vivid dream. What was happening to me? Had time really stopped, or had I simply been lost in her?

She tilted her head, the motion playful. "Austin?" she said again, her voice pulling me back to reality.

"Ah, yeah—yeah, I'm good," I stammered, raising my glass as if it were a shield. "Maybe just a little tired from the drinks. Heh." I forced a smile, hoping it came off as charming instead of dazed.

She laughed softly, her smile widening as she raised her own glass. "Cheers."

I clinked mine against hers, trying to focus on anything other than the way her laughter made my stomach flip.

"What the hell was that?" I thought, lowering my glass and stealing another glance at her. My heart was still racing, and I let out a silent sigh.

We talked for a while, the conversation weaving in and out of casual topics. I learned that Afa was also a college student, studying business management.

"My father insists," she said with a light laugh, spinning the wine glass delicately between her fingers. The deep red liquid swirled hypnotically before she took a small sip. "He owns dockyards. Several, actually. Says I need to know how to manage a business if I ever want to take over."

"Sounds like he's got a plan for you," I said, intrigued.
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"Yeah. He does," she replied, resting her chin on her hand as she gave me a wry smile. "But let's not make this all about me. What about you?"

Her question came with a tilt of her head and a subtle shift as she crossed her legs again. The confidence in her smile made me sit a little straighter.

"Me?" I said, a little caught off guard. "Well, I'm a college student too. My dad runs a textile business back home, so I guess I got lucky that he's footing the bill for me to be here."

"That's cool enough." She said.

I laughed. "It is, but I like what he is doing. I've always been interested in how things work—markets, supply chains, all that boring stuff."

"Not boring at all," she said, surprising me. "You'd probably get along with my dad. He's always going on about logistics and efficiency. I usually tune him out."

"I can't blame you," I admitted with a grin. "It's not everyone's idea of fun."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned a little closer. "So, if that's not your fun, what is? Any hobbies?"

"I guess I'm pretty into sports," I said. "Basketball, mostly. Played a lot in high school. These days, it's more like a stress-relief thing."

"Basketball, huh? Figures," she said with a teasing smirk. "You've got that sporty hotshot look."

"Do I?" I asked, feigning surprise. "And here I thought I looked like someone who spends too much time in the library."

She laughed, a soft, musical sound that made my chest warm. "Not quite. So, no girlfriend back home, Mr. Basketball Player?"

The question caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly. I took a sip of my drink before answering. "No girlfriend," I said with a casual shrug. "But I've got good company around, you know? People like you."

She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. "Flatterer."

"What about you?" I asked, turning the question back on her. "Any boyfriend I should know about?"

She hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass as she seemed to consider her words. "No boyfriend," she admitted. "But... there is someone."

I raised a brow. "Oh? Do tell."

She sighed, her gaze dropping briefly to the table. "He's... well, he's someone I see a lot. At school. He's confident, funny, always surrounded by people. Girls, mostly. I feel like I'd just be in the way if I said anything."

Her honesty caught me off guard, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. "You shouldn't think like that," I said.

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine.

"Seriously," I continued. "Asking someone out and getting rejected? That's always better than sitting back and wondering 'what if.' Regret hits a lot harder than rejection ever could."

Her lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she looked down again, seemingly deep in thought. The silence between us was thick but not uncomfortable.

After a moment, she smiled faintly, almost to herself. "I knew it..." she muttered under her breath.

I leaned closer, my curiosity piqued. "Knew what? I couldn't hear you."

Her eyes flicked up to mine, a mixture of amusement and something unreadable dancing in them. She shook her head lightly. "Nothing," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But I wasn't convinced.

*SHATTER* *THUD*

The conversation between us paused as the sound of shattering glass echoed through the area. My head snapped toward the corner, along with everyone else's. A wine bottle and glass lay in pieces on the floor, but that wasn't what caught my attention.

A woman sat over the table, her naked lower half shamelessly exposed. Her foot was inside a man's mouth, and as she poured wine down her leg, the man eagerly drank it, his hands gripping her thighs. Laughter and gasps rippled through the crowd around them.

"Damn," I muttered, unable to look away. "They're going at it without a shred of shame."

The couple's display escalated as the woman adjusted herself, fully opening her dress and exposing her boobs and straddling the man. Their mouths collided in a heated, ravenous kiss that had even the boldest spectators murmuring in disbelief.

The heat in my cheeks spread as I turned back to Afa, unsure whether to laugh or make a comment. But before I could speak, she softly called my name.

"Austin..."

"Yes?" I asked, my gaze meeting hers.

Without warning, she leaned forward, her hands cupping my cheeks, and her lips pressed against mine. My breath hitched, my eyes wide in shock, but only for a moment. The warmth of her kiss melted away my hesitation, and I closed my eyes, leaning into her.

Her lips were soft, tasting faintly of the wine she'd been sipping, and as the kiss deepened, a jolt of heat coursed through me. My hands instinctively found her waist, and with a surge of boldness, I pulled her onto my lap. She straddled me effortlessly, her dress sliding up as she settled against me.

Afa's fingers tangled in my hair as she kissed me with a fiery intensity, her body pressing against mine. I felt her hips move, a slow, deliberate grind against my dick that made my pulse race. She was warm and intoxicating, her confidence igniting something primal in me.

I tightened my grip on her ass, my fingers tracing the smooth, exposed skin beneath her dress. The sensation of her body against mine was almost dizzying, every touch and movement stoking the fire between us.

Her kiss was hungry, almost possessive, as though the world around us didn't exist anymore. And for me, it didn't. There was only her—her lips, her warmth, her scent, her everything.

The noise of the bar faded into the background, the laughter and murmurs of the crowd forgotten. All I could focus on was the way she made me feel: completely and utterly consumed.

Her lips parted from mine, leaving me breathless and dazed. For a moment, she looked at me, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with mine. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she asked, her voice soft but laced with daring confidence:

"Hey... wanna fuck?"

The bluntness of her question sent a thrill through me. For a second, I just stared at her, my mind catching up with my heart's racing pace. Finally, I smirk, my voice coming out low and steady.

"I surely do."

Afa's smile widened into something both playful and seductive. She stood up from my lap, smoothing her dress, and extended her hand toward me. I took it without hesitation, her fingers warm and soft as they intertwined with mine.

Wordlessly, we left the bar behind, weaving through the crowd and stepping out into the cool night air. I thought we were heading to my hotel, but she surprised me, leading me toward another door.

"My room," she said with a smirk, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Inside, the space was dimly lit, the soft amber glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. I stood by the bed, unsure whether to move or speak, but she was already turning back toward the door. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent another jolt of excitement through me.

When she faced me again, there was something different in her gaze—something confident, knowing. Slowly, she reached up to her shoulder, where the single knot of her dress rested. With one smooth motion, she undid it, letting her clothes drop to the floor in a whisper.

She stood there now in nothing but her lingerie—a delicate set of black lace that hugged her curves perfectly.

Her eyes met mine, and my breath hitched, and I felt rooted in place, captivated by her beauty and the moment unfolding before me.