Ambiramus Ch. 01

A/N -- Hello. I'm sure most of those who follow me are thinking 'Oh, this is new!' Well, I like to experiment and try new things when it comes to writing stories, so I thought I'd give a story in this category a go. As always, there'll be a romantic feel to the story, as I always like a... happy ending.

Giggity.

To those who regularly read in this category but not read my stuff before, I don't do quick stroke stories. I like my stories to have some romance. Keep them at least a little realistic, though in the end, they are meant to be fantasies.

In the end, like every other story, it's written for fun and all I can do is hope you enjoy it too.

Regarding the title, Ambiramus is a Gaulish word (an extinct language in Europe) meaning 'voyage' or 'journey''. It is also the name of a song by Swiss folk-metal band Eluveitie.

*****

"Come on, Mark. When did you last hit the town?"

Grumbling something into my mug of coffee, chewing on the boring sandwich I'd prepared the previous night. "How long have you been divorced now?" That earned him a glare. "Okay, okay, still a touchy subject."

"The divorce isn't touchy. I'm just glad we live here in this country where men don't get bent over and completely reamed during the divorce. And I won't begrudge my kids what they need, though I'm sure the bitch spends the money on herself rather than them."

"Mark, seriously, I can't remember the last time you got out for the night. Yes, every second weekend, you have the kids, and you play footy on a Saturday afternoon for a few months a year. But other than that, you have no social life, my friend."

"In case you haven't noticed, Mike, said divorce has left me feeling rather bitter towards the so-called fairer sex. And before you even say anything, no, I'm not changing to your side." I took a sip of my coffee before whispering something that would be considered derogatory, but we'd been friends for over twenty-five years, and I'd known he'd been gay since we were teenagers. He heard and chuckled.

"Look, Chris and I are hitting the town on Saturday night. You should come along. We'll get some drinks, we head to a few bars, there'll be some good music, but most importantly, you'll get out of your fucking apartment. And you've never had a problem in the sort of bars we frequent. Hell, getting hit on by some good looking guys will at least give the old confidence a boost."

"At least they take no for an answer," I said, managing a slight grin.

"That's the spirit! So... are you going to come?"

Sighing, I finally nodded. "Fine."

He clapped his hands. "About time. Trust me, we'll have a great time and you'll put all your worries behind you, at least for the night."

Chris, Mike and I all worked as mechanics. When you talked or spent time with the pair, you wouldn't have guessed both were homosexual, but I'd picked up the lingo over the years. They were what they called 'straight acting'... until they were around people they were comfortable with and trusted. We were all the same age, thirty-five. While I'd settled down in my early twenties with my now ex-wife, buying a house, two children, all that jazz, those two enjoyed life to the fullest. To my surprise, they never hooked up after being each other's firsts in high school. Why that is the case is a story for another time.

Finishing work for the day, I had a couple of days to ready the mind for the Saturday night. I guess I had become somewhat of a recluse since the divorce. I can only assume it happens when your ex-wife decides one dick in our marriage wasn't enough. Thankfully, she was an idiot, or just didn't care and flaunted it, but once I found out, the marriage was over. I didn't like moving out, and leaving the kids behind, but I refused to tolerate a cheating whore as a wife. The divorce went about as well as any man could expect. I got the kids every fortnight, and one day during the week, holidays were alternated, and I got them for half the day on their birthday. Our marriage might have collapsed, but I was surprised she didn't use our kids against me. I actually think she felt some guilt for what she did.

Didn't mean the hate went away quickly though, but for the kids' sake, we managed to keep our relationship cordial.

After showering as soon as I got home, I looked into the mirror and saw a slightly world weary man looking back at me. I thought I still looked good for thirty-five. The ex-wife had always complimented my blue eyes. Still had thick brown hair on my head. Usually had stubble as I hated shaving, relying on an electric razor most mornings. Nose had been broken a couple of times due to the footy, but wasn't ugly. I worked out nearly every day, so I was fit, standing at just around six foot.

One thing I'd learned was how to cook so at least that was a treat every night, keeping plenty of things in the fridge and the cupboards. Sure, sometimes I wanted nothing more than beans on toast, followed by a case of beer, but the idea of a night out grew on me, and by the time I sat down in front of the TV with my dinner, I was feeling in a better mood. That was perked up by the usual call from my ten-year-old daughter, Natalie. My son, Greg, was now a surly fifteen-year-old and he hadn't dealt with the separation well. I knew his mother copped most of the flak, but my relationship with him was strained as well. Natalie just missed her daddy, and the ex-wife didn't refuse her calling me whenever she wanted.

By Saturday afternoon, I have to admit I was actually looking forward to getting out for the night. I wasn't going to get all dressed up, just a nice shirt, jeans and leather shoes, the standard wear for whenever I went out for a drink. Mike called when he was outside in the taxi he'd booked for the three of us, driving into the city and an area known for the bars that they would prefer. I'd been out with them before to such place. When married, my then wife had actually preferred it!

Hitting up a regular pub first, the first schooner of beer barely touched the sides. Chris and Mike shared a glance. "Thirsty, Mark?"

"Haven't been out in months. Don't worry, I'll drink the next one a lot slower. We eating?"

"Yeah, we'll pick up a burger or something," Chris replied.

Enjoying a second beer, grabbing a simple burger at the same time, we headed out and walked towards the sort of places my mates would prefer. Most of the time, the only difference is the pride flag or colours that would be somewhere above the door. I knew they had their favourites, and we'd only go to those later, once it was dark and the crowds were out.

"Once we hit our favourite place, Mark, you'll be on your own," Mike warned, "Just grab a stool at the bar and try not to be a miserable bastard."

"And what, pray tell, will you be doing?" Before he could open his mouth, I held up a hand. "I can guess. Twinks, right?"

"Topping twinks is what Chris and I do best."

"Yeah, spare me the details otherwise."

I'd enjoyed a few drinks by the time we reached their favourite club. Soon as we walked in, they were on the prowl. I wished them good luck, and to just let me know if they were leaving with company. Taking a seat at the bar, the woman behind it took my order, ordering a Jack and Coke. It wasn't cheap, as expected, but I wasn't planning on getting wasted.

"Here by yourself, honey?" she asked, a friendly smile on her face.

"Nah, though I think my friends hope to leave with company other than mine by the end of the night."

She looked me up and down, the part she could see anyway. "You're straight, aren't you?"

"That obvious?"

"I just have that sixth sense."

"I've been here before. I've known my friends for decades now. I see nothing in here I haven't seen before."

She smiled. "You need another drink, you just give me a wave, honey."

I grinned at the fact she was being nice. Hadn't had that much lately. "Thanks."

The music wasn't blaring, at least, though the dance floor was full of men and women gyrating. There were all sorts of men on display, no surprise half were walking around without a shirt already. Didn't even bother checking out the women. They were either gay or the sort of women who frequented gay bars to avoid being bothered all night by drunk guys. And I didn't want to bother them. Wasn't really bothered about picking up at all.

Nursing a second drink, the stools to either side were usually occupied, making general conversation with anyone who sat next to me, though any sort of flirting was quickly rebuffed. I'd probably been sat there for an hour when the stool to my left was occupied by a woman. Glancing out of corner of my eye, she was brunette, blue eyes, nice bumps on her chest. Wearing a short-sleeved blouse and a skirt, sensible shoes on her feet. She ordered some sort of cocktail, and only after receiving it did she turned towards me.

She was absolutely gorgeous. I mean, model sort of gorgeous, left wondering why she would even bother talking to me.

"Hi," she said.

"Um, hello."

She offered her hand. "I'm Cindy." I probably blinked in silence for a few seconds as she leaned closer. "This is where you shake my hand and introduce yourself," she whispered.

I chuckled. "Sorry, little out of practice." I took her offered hand. "I'm Mark. Nice to meet you."

"I was standing over there and you looked a little lonely. Here by yourself?"

"No, a couple of mates are here. They're on the prowl. I reckon I'll be leaving alone later."

"And you? You on the prowl too?"

"I'm just out for a couple of drinks."

"And you're not gay."

"I must have a sign on my head saying 'I'm not gay' or something."

"No, it's the fact half a dozen men have walked away disappointed after flirting with you and you shutting them down rather quickly."

"Ah, well... I've been out with my mates plenty of times. Nothing really shocks me anymore, but while I'm flattered, I generally don't want to give the wrong impression." I took a sip of my drink. "What about you?"

"Oh, I have the same dreams as most young woman. Meet a guy. Fall in love. That sort of thing. Probably not the right sort of place for that though." She flashed me a smile. "I figured I'd just bite the bullet and come talk to the handsome but lonely looking man at the bar."

I almost snorted before chuckling. "Well, at least someone finds me handsome. Didn't realise I looked as lonely as I did."

Her soft hand rested on top of mine. "It can be lonely at times, these lives we lead." I met her blue eyes. How on earth could this woman possibly be lonely? I mean, I know anyone can suffer depression, crippling anxiety, that sort of thing, but this woman should have had a line of suitors, whether men, women or something in between.

I finished my drink and waved over the same bartender. She smiled seeing me with Cindy. "Evening, Cindy. Nice to see you again."

"Good to see you too, Cass."

"What are you drinking?" I asked Cindy.

"Blue Lagoon."

"Drink for the lady and same again for me."

"Sure thing, honey."

She squeezed my hand. "Thank you, Mark," she said softly.

"No problem." I cleared my throat. "Um... I haven't really done this in a while. I was married for over a decade."

"You mean flirting? Dating? All the above?"

"Yeah. This is my first proper night out since the divorce." Cass placed drinks in front of us, offering my card to pay. Cindy gripped my hand a little harder. "Sorry, let's change topics. We're out for a good time, right?"

"Want to finish these drinks and go somewhere quieter?" I nearly choked on my drink. Placing the glass down, I had to stare at her for a couple of seconds. "As I said, I approached you for a reason. Physically, instant attraction. You're devilishly handsome. So now it's the getting to know you part," she explained with a smile.

Chuckling, I replied, "Seems the dating game has changed. Can't remember a time a woman approached me first."

"Don't ask, don't get. Grab the bull by the horns. You know, all those phrases about thinking positively and taking action."

"Let me message my friends." Pulling out my phone, I sent them a message on the group chat we used. No surprise they both appeared out of the crowd within half a minute. Chris has his arm around a young man, Mike was still alone. Probably wouldn't last much longer. He never left without company.

"You going home already?" Mike asked.

"No, I'm leaving with Cindy." I turned towards her. "Cindy, these are my friends, Mike and Chris."

She offered her hand. "Nice to meet you."

After shaking hands, Mike gave me a curious glance. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Shrugging, I admitted I didn't know. Cindy mentioned a quieter bar so we could talk and get to know each other. Mike returned another curious glance before he seemed to shrug to himself. "Okay, well, I'm assuming you'll find your own way home then?"

"I was assuming I'd be doing that anyway, Mike."

"Fair enough. Well, see you at work on Monday."

The evening was still warm and Cindy didn't have a jacket. Once outside in the cooler air, realising how heavy the air had been inside, she took my hand and led us away. She was shorter than me, perhaps no taller than five-nine at most, the small heels she was wearing adding an inch or two at most. I let her take the lead as I figured she probably had somewhere in mind, amused when we ended up at a café. "I don't want a hangover tomorrow morning," she said.

"Not a bad idea. Let's get a table inside."

I ordered our drinks and joined her in a small booth. To my surprise, she stood up and slid into the space next to me. I glanced at her and smiled. We made small talk before our drinks arrived, and the idea of finishing off the night with a coffee was certainly relaxing. I learned more about her. She was twenty-five, worked a dull office job (her own words), and lived in an apartment in a suburb only a short drive from where I lived.

"Why were you in that bar tonight? You're not a lesbian... or at least I think you're not."

She laughed lightly. I'd learned to really enjoy the sound already. "No, definitely not a lesbian. I just like the vibe of those places. And I can enjoy a drink or two and not be harassed. Let's be honest, the majority of men in such places are not interested in me. And most women are not interested in me either."

"Because you're not a lesbian."

"That and one or two other reasons."

I was ready to ask what they were but I noticed her hands were shaking, as if she was nervous. So I took one of her hands in mine, ensuring her fingers were between mine as I squeezed. "Something wrong?"

She turned to look at me. "Not yet. I haven't done anything like this in a long time. Shared a drink with someone. A stranger really."

We continued to chat as I drank her in some more. Her brunette hair went as far as her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled in the low light of the café. Her lips were full and definitely the sort I'd probably enjoy kissing. She had a slight tan and her skin looked flawless, that I could see. Her breasts were full, around a C-cup at a guess, and to my surprise, looked a little fake. I had no problem with fake breasts. Some women with smaller busts liked to enhance what they had to feel more confident in themselves.

Finishing our drinks, she asked if I'd like to go home. Checking the time, it was after midnight and I had consumed quite a few drinks earlier. "Want to share an Uber? I'll make sure you get home safely then just take it the rest of the way home."

I booked one that was only five minutes away, waiting outside, continuing to chat away about anything that came to mind. Mentioning my kids made her smile, eventually opening my phone and showing her some photo's, mostly of my daughter. My son didn't really like having his photo taken. Natalie was a little model whenever I had my phone out to take pictures.

The ride home didn't take as long as usual as there's little traffic at that time in the morning. Pulling up outside her apartment block, I got out and walked her to the door. "I live a few floors up," she said.

"I'd like to see you again, Cindy."

She smiled. "I'd like that, Mark," she said softly. She took my phone and put her number in mine, and I did the same to hers. Then I took a chance and kissed her. First woman I'd kissed since my divorce. She tasted of mint, having slipped a piece of chewing gum into her mouth after our coffee. Her perfume was fragrant and wonderful. The Uber driver beeped his horn. I groaned before I broke the kiss.

"Two more minutes, mate!" I yelled out, "I'll give you a bigger tip."

Then I kissed her again, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her to my body. Part of me wanted to stay with her that night, but I didn't feel in the right mind to leap into bed straight away. Finally pulling apart, she looked up at me with a smile. "Well, that's a hell of a way to wish me goodnight, Mark."

"I'll call... tomorrow..."

"I'd like that too."

I kissed her again a final time before wishing her goodnight and walking back to the Uber. Getting home ten or so minutes later, I headed straight to the bathroom to pee. Looking in the mirror again, I saw a grin on my face for the first time in months. A genuine grin.

Hearing my phone buzz, I wandered out to the kitchen and opened the app. It was a picture of Cindy already in bed, thanking me for a great night. I replied, stating I'd had a great time, and that I'd like to do it again. To my surprise, the next sound was my phone ringing. It was Cindy.

"Let's have lunch tomorrow," she suggested.

"Okay. I can drive over and pick you up? Say around 1pm?"

"Sounds great, Mark." I heard her yawn. "I'm bushed. Sweet dreams, Mark."

"Goodnight, Cindy."

Disconnecting the call, I headed to my room and undressed, having a quick shower, before getting into bed. I lay back and thought about the evening. I certainly hadn't expected to meet anyone that night. There was something joyful about her though. Some real joie de vivre. But, at the same time, she didn't seem troubled, but like when her hands started to shake, I think she perhaps had problems of her own. Just like all of us, to be honest.

After breakfast and a visit to the gym the next morning, I sent Cindy a message when I was ready to go pick her up. Arriving outside her apartment block half an hour later, she buzzed me up, her door already open after I stepped out of the elevator. She was waiting for me, wearing a gorgeous red summer dress that highlighted her curves, the hem high enough to show off a great pair of legs. I definitely gazed at her in silence. "You like?" she asked softly.

"I definitely like. Any man where we eat is going to be jealous you're on my arm."

"Well, aren't you a charmer."

That made me snort with humour, setting off a giggle from her. "Ready to go?"

"Yes. I got us reservations at a place nearby. You're a man. I assume you eat meat?"

"I do."

She grinned. "Good. Let's go eat."

Lunch was fantastic but her company was what helped pass the time. Before we knew it, we'd eaten three courses and the conversation had been incredibly easy. Both of us feeling rather full, I suggested we just take a walk in a nearby park. She loved that idea, so taking her hand, we strolled around the man-made lake, passing by plenty of other couples and families soaking in the warmth and sunshine.

Leading her off the path to the shade of a tree, I leaned back against it as she settled back between my legs, her head resting on my chest, cuddling her back against me. "I could fall asleep like this," she said softly.

"Hmmm. Been a while since a young woman fell asleep with me."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Would you like to come to my place?"

"I'd love to."

She sat forward before turning around, straddling my lap, her blue eyes looking into mine. Chewing her bottom lip, she seemed to be thinking about something, before seeming to make up her mind, leaning forward to give me one hell of a soft but sensual kiss before cuddling into me again. God, I'd known her for maybe eighteen hours by this point and I was already thinking a lot of things.