Back In The Game Ch. 05

I get to the bar and order another drink. The night is going exactly as well as expected.

The waitress brings over the drink, and I turn to look at the crowd. A sweaty, heaving throng of bodies, youthful flesh, vibrant and alive. Dancing, swaying, a touch, a caress, an ass in the crotch, a sneaky snog. A veritable smorgasbord of pent-up sexual energy, just waiting to explode into an unconstrained orgy of fucking and cumming.

Or perhaps, that was just me, projecting.

Jeremy was nowhere in sight, and neither, for that matter, was the blonde with the big tits. It could have been a coincidence, but it was more than likely they were in a cubicle stall together, her legs wrapped around his waist, tits hanging out of her skin-tight dress, no need for a bra, bouncing for all they were worth, as he held against the cubicle wall, getting his dick wet like he was nineteen again.

I downed my drink and debated whether to have another or call it quits. I decided to leave, why prolong this embarrassment any further? I turned and put my glass on the bar.

The bartender came up and grabbed the glass.

"Another?" She asked.

I went to raise my hand to signal no thanks when a figure appeared beside me.

"I'll have whatever he's having."

"I'm afraid I'm not having anything," I replied.

"You going to leave a girl at the bar, all alone?"

I turned to look at her. She must have been about 20, petite, with short, dark black hair, clearly dyed. She opened her blue eyes wide and they shone like emeralds.

She was looking directly at me, so I resisted the urge to break eye contact and check the rest of her out. I weighed my options. Either I could buy her a drink, and maybe have a little chat and a flirt before she heads off to find her friends, or I could go home alone.

The former option clearly felt like the better option, even if it gave off vibes of sad older man trying to fuck a much younger woman, who was clearly out of his league.

I ordered two drinks and turned to look at her.

"It's ok," she said, her eyes locked on mine. "You can look, I've got nice boobs."

She wasn't lying. I looked down and nearly got vertigo from staring down the precipice of her cleavage. They were large, vibrant, squeezed into a black dress with a somewhat gothic vibe. Her dress flared around the hips in layers, from which ran the tips of suspenders, clipped onto her thigh-high tights, at the bottom of which were rather ornate black pumps with a large heel.

Her bare, pale arms displayed a variety of tattoos that could only be described as Tim Burton-esque. To say she was not the club's usual clientele would be putting it mildly.

The bartender put down the drinks, and as she walked off, I noticed a patronising smile on her face. I was becoming a middle-aged cliché, but at this moment I couldn't care less.

I handed her her drink, and she took it, her soft fingers caressing my slightly rougher hands, holding them there for longer than was strictly necessary.

For a moment, I thought she might be into me. I could picture the taxi ride home, going upstairs to my flat, pawing, kissing, grabbing, desperate to get undressed and explore each other's bodies, but I put that out of my mind.

She was a young woman having fun, nothing more. A bit of a flirt in exchange for a free drink or two. That was fine, for even though I knew that to be the case, I couldn't help but have my ego boosted. At the very least, she can't have been utterly repelled by me.

"Cheers," I said, and clinked her glass.

"Cheers," she echoed, and downed her drink in one, long go. "Another?" She asked, laughing.

"I've barely started this one," I said, taking a sip.

"That's no problem," she said, taking the glass off me and downing that one too.

"You can't just take a man's drink," I said, mock offended.

"Looks like I've been bad," she said, moving closer to me, pushing her lips to my ears. "Maybe you'd better teach me a lesson."

Her soft breath tickled my skin. Goose pimples erupted over my neck. Her body was pressed against me, and I could smell her sweet perfume mixed with her sweat. A mixture of expertly crafted artifice and pure human energy, the most intoxicating combination.

"But first," she said pulling back away, "more drinks."

She waved at the bartender and knew this was a bad idea, even as I ordered another round.