Connections by Six Degrees Ch. 01.1

She was running her finger around the rim of her apple martini glass, lost in thought. I was two stools to left of her, in a dusky bar, in the middle of the afternoon, somewhere in boondocks near Jacksonville.

I was just recently divorced and in shambles. The details are too painful to iterate. A school chum of mine, Ramesh, had invited me to stay with him and his wife for a few days. He had insisted on the phone .

"I know you don't feel like driving or seeing people but it'll be good for you. Trust me. And I'd like you to meet Nita. You've never met her. You didn't even come to our wedding," he lamented.

I agreed reluctantly and told I him I would start the five hour drive early the next morning. But I couldn't stand to be in the apartment alone another night, so I packed quickly and jumped in the car. I figured I'd drive for while, get drunk, spend the night in a hotel, and go see Ramesh and Nita the next morning.

Four hours later I spotted a seedy bar on the side of the road. There was nothing but brush and fences in the vicinity. This was farm country. I stopped and I went in.

The bartender gave me a toothless grin. He was a short, fat, wizened old man with a dirty shirt that once used to be white. Predictably he was chewing on toothpick. I ordered a beer.

I took a swig and I noticed her.

She had dark skin, long black lustrous hair, slightly wavy, full lips, big satin-black eyes. She had an Indian nose, a little bit broad. Her face was clear and tan and there was no hint of make-up. A tiny jewel sparkled on her left nostril. She was wearing a snug white t-shirt and jeans. She was thin, and her big breasts looked almost out of place in contrast to her thin neck and arms and waist. Almost.

"Hi," I said with my best smile.

She ignored me.

"Come here often?" I tried again.

"My God, is that the best you can do." Her voice was divine, a little bit husky, probably from smoking, with a faint British accent.

"Sorry, I am out of practice. Can I try again?" I said.

She smiled her acquiescence.

"Is that Channel #5?" I asked. "It's smells wonderful."

"You're not very good at this, are you?"

"No," I agreed, "I was married for a long time and just recently divorced. Out of practice. Ok, so you tell me, what's a good pick up line. I'm sure you've heard them all."

"That's a good pickup line. Ask a girl what's a good pickup line," she said, pointing a finger at me for emphasis. She had a way of tilting her head when spoke that was positively endearing. It made the shimmer on her silky black hair undulate. She had obviously had a few drinks.

I moved next to her. "You're Indian. What are you doing here?"

"No," she said, turning on her stool to face, "that's not a good line. What you mean is what's a nice Indian girl doing in a dingy bar in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of nowhere all alone?"

I started to say something but she interrupted, "Who says I'm nice?"

"I think you're nice. You have a beautiful face. You're just–" I stammered.

"My face is up here, why are staring at my tits?" she interrupted coyly, shaking a finger. "Look at me. Let me see your face."

I turned on the stool and moved it closer to her. My knees were now outside hers, touching her knees. She straightened and I noticed nipples sticking out. Big breasts, and she was showing off. More power to her. She stared at my face and nodded, as if in approval.

"You're married?" I asked, noticing the wedding band, and rubbing my finger where mine used to be.

"Nah, I just wear this to keep guys like you away. Look, I don't like to waste time. Do you like me?"

"Of course."

"That doesn't sound convincing. Convince me. Make me feel sexy and desirable," she purred.

I laughed. "Ok, I'll try. Here goes," I continued. "You're a goddess. Your skin is so clear and beautiful and warm," I said as I encased both her hands in mine and pulled her closer. "Can you feel my heart thump?" I said pulling her even closer. "My God, your eyes...they're so hypnotic. Your lips are full and inviting and—"

"Do you want to fuck me?"

I was stunned. I searched her face to see if she was joking, but she seemed to be seriously waiting for an answer.

"Yes."

"Tell me how."

"Well, I wouldn't just fuck you. I would undress you very slowly and enjoy the sight of you. I would kiss your feet and work my way up, and kiss—"

"That's enough," she said. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Listen. This is your lucky day. I will let you fuck me. Because you're awkward and shy and you're the only thing in here that doesn't smell. You'll get a hotel room. A nice one. And you'll take me there and you'll fuck the daylights out of me. Make me scream. Hurt me. But don't ask any questions. When we're done I'll leave and we'll never see each other again."

I followed her, watching her wiggle her delectable behind. My heart was thumping and my palms were wet; she had had an effect on me.