Blurred Lines Pt. 02

"I just told you. Nothing else. Nothing weird. Buy him a drink, he drinks it, and you get the Benjamin."

"Can't he see you talking to us?"

"Nope. I took his glasses. He can only see about two inches without them. If the four of us stood a yard in front of him, he could't pick me out."

"Yeah, I saw you take his glasses off. I thought that was odd," one of the women offers.

Another asks, "Did you warn him you'd do this?"

"Now, where would be the fun in that? This game is for his benefit. If you're not interested, let me know and I'll try and find someone else to play."

"And if we lose, what happens?"

"You don't get the hundred bucks. That's it."

"Let's do it. I'll go first."

"Try to get his name. Tell me, and if I win, I'll cut you in," another offers. The first woman walks over to Greg. I walk nearby, close enough to hear them, but not close enough for Greg to see me.

"Hi, you look lonely over here. Can I join you?" She sits down before Greg can answer. "I'm Tina. What's your name?"

"Greg. Just so you know, I'm waiting for my wife to get back from the bar?"

"How long has she been gone?"

"Just a few minutes. She said the bar was pretty crowded, and might take a while."

"Well, that's odd, Greg. There's practically no one there."

"I'm sure she said it was pretty crowded."

"Turn your head and have a look for yourself."

"I can't see, I don't have my glasses."

"Well, let me prove it to you. I'll go buy us drinks, and be back in a jiffy. What are you having?"

"Thanks, really, but I'll pass. I'm sure she'll be along any minute."

"It's on me. You sure?"

"That's kind of you, but you seem interested in meeting someone, and I've already met and married my someone. You'd be better served to keep looking. Good luck."

"Your loss." Tina marched back to her table.

"What's his name?"

"Greg."

"All right. My turn." The second woman walks over to the bar, and gets a single drink. Then she heads back to Greg's table.

"Excuse me, are you Greg?"

"Yes."

"Your wife asked me to bring this to you. She's stuck at the bar."

"Stuck at the bar?"

"She ordered a dirty martini, and they are getting a fresh jar of olives from the back. She didn't want you to have to wait for your drink."

"I see. Put it here, please." She puts the drink in front of him. Greg bends down and takes a sniff of it.

"Miss, I'm sorry, there must be some mistake. My wife didn't order this for me. It must be some other Greg you're looking for."

"Well, you could just take it, and the bar will have to make another for the right Greg when he complains. Free drink?"

"No thanks. I'll pass. Could you take it, please." She picks up the drink and walks back to her table. The last of the three walks over to Greg's table. I stay put.

The third woman walks over to Greg. "Hi. Let me make this really simple. Let me buy you a drink, whatever you want, you drink it, and I'll give you forty bucks."

Greg starts laughing. "And how much did my wife offer you to see if you could get me to accept a drink from you? Let me see, you offer forty, maybe a hundred dollars? By my reckoning, that drink would still cost me sixty bucks. Thanks, but I'll pass." She walks back to her table without saying another word. And now those three have a funny story to tell.

I head over to the bar, and get a double shot of the eighteen year old Macallen, neat. It doesn't cost a hundred bucks, but is way more than I'd normally pay for a drink. While at the bar, I corner a waitress, and ask her to offer the three women a drink on me, and then head back to the table with Greg.

"Interesting. Wasn't that much of a challenge, though."

"We're just getting started. Here. Enjoy." I hand him the scotch. "And you're right. It was really arousing listening to you reject flirtation from other women." He takes a sip.

"Wow, this is good. You splurged for The Macallan, what is it, fifteen, twenty year old?"

"Eighteen. You like it?"

"Yes, it's really smooth, but still bold."

"Prove it." He kisses me. It has strong flavors, but is very smooth and mellow.

"You're welcome to partake from my personal stock anytime, you know."

"I only enjoy it second hand."

"What are you drinking?"

"Water."

"C'mon, cut loose a little. Let's celebrate."

"We are. Here, have a look at this." I hand him my cell phone.

"What is this? I can't see it."

"Look closely. You'll figure it out." He pulls it up to an inch from his face.

"Let's see. A picture of a wide white stick, with a blue plus in the middle. Wait, does this mean, ...?"

"Yes!" I reply, unable to conceal the glee in my voice.

"That's wonderful! How long have you known?"

"Just since this morning." He leans over, hugs me, and kisses me deeply. And another time. "You had just left for work, and I didn't want to call you while you were driving. Then I decided to wait and tell you tonight."

"Well, that marks a successful first stage of Operation Progeny. Are we returning to the scene of the crime, as it were?"

"Possibly. The timing is right. But we did it here once, and at home, lets see," I start counting on my fingers, "six times, that would make it one in seven for here, I think."

"Didn't you mention taking a morning after pill that day?"

I reach out and gently slap his shoulder. "I still owe you for all of that."

"So a whole weekend of awesome sex doesn't balance the books?"

"Nope. I have some more plans for tonight. Now that I can't, you're drinking for two. That's a double. Get it down quickly."

"Not a chance. For what this must have cost, I'm going to savor this. Work around that." Greg raises his scotch, I raise my water, and we touch glasses. I notice the three temptresses across the way have fresh drinks and are looking our way, so I raise my glass towards them as well, and they respond in kind.

We spend the next fifteen minutes discussing logistics, when I'll stop working, where we'll move furniture to set up a nursery, and so forth. Greg isn't halfway through his scotch when I finish my water.

"Being pregnant, my bladder feels full all the time. I need to hit the bathroom. And I don't want to leave you alone again. Who knows what kind of hussy will assault you? Could you accompany me there, please? Bring your scotch."

"Oh, come on, you're barely twenty minutes pregnant."

"Several weeks. Don't cross me, you might induce one of my mood swings." I take his hand and we head to the bathrooms. Way in the back, our favorite one is available. We go in, I lock the door, take Greg's glass of fine scotch and place it securely on top of the toilet tank. Then I guide him against a wall, and kiss him deeply for several minutes.

"Now, let's see if you can take the joy and excitement of our upcoming baby, and let that morph into love, lust and desire." I pull out a thick towel from my oversized bag, and put it down on the floor in front of him, folded in quarters. "Now that your swimmers have done their job, they don't need to be so, well, single minded in their choice of orifices." I kneel in front of him, on the towel, lower his zipper, and open his pants. He's fully hard, and I take him into my mouth greedily. I fondle his balls, and massage his taint. In few minutes, he comes, pretty violently. I clean him off with my mouth, grab a piece of toilet paper, wipe the spittle off his prick, and tuck it away for him. Then I stand up and kiss him again, and speak.

"Bartender says the band starts up at ten past nine. We missed the band last time, and I want to hear them." I check my watch. "It's eight fifty two now, so that gives you eighteen minutes. Bring me to two orgasms and get us out of here to hear the beginning of the first song, and you get your glasses back. Time starts NOW!"