Pretty Woman

As Joy walked along the line of shops she felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman solely because of the amount of bags she was holding. Unfortunately the only person that had made any big mistakes was herself in wearing a pair of high heels to go shopping in. Her feet were in agony and she was seriously considering buying another pair of shoes just to be able to sit down and take her boots off. When she had left the house that morning the last thing she had expected to be doing was having a spending spree and wandering around a city centre in heels.

The previous day her husband had been out for the duration, failing to tell her that he was going to bag yet another Munro with his mate and spend the evening demolishing a bottle of malt whisky with him. She had been so annoyed at his lack of communication and the state that he had staggered home in that she had decided it was her turn to go AWOL and give him a taste of his own medicine. Therefore, she had set off early that morning with no real inkling where she was going; just knowing that she wanted him to wonder where she was.

Putting the radio up loud, she sped off without a clue as to where to go or what to do. She had just driven, feeling a little better with every mile that her car ate up. After driving for what seemed like hours, over a hundred miles had been consumed and she found herself on the outskirts of Aberdeen. Thinking there was nothing more therapeutic than a spot of shopping, she drove into the city centre and parked the car, determined to have some fun of her own for a change.

Now, as she tottered along the pavement, she had had her pleasure and was now regretting her spur of the moment decision. Not because of the money she had spent but because the balls of her feet felt like they were on fire and if she did not sit down soon she was going to be forced to take her boots off and walk along the rest of Union Street in her stocking soles. It was then she spotted a pub on the corner with a sign boasting that they served Douwe Egberts coffee. She could not see through the frosted glass to see if it was the type of bar that she would normally frequent but at that point she could not have cared less as long as she was able to sit down and maybe even slip her boots off.

She climbed the three stone steps to gain entry to the pub and pushed the door open with her shoulder, unable to use her bag laden hands. Distressingly, she just about fell into the bar as a flat capped old gentleman had chosen just that moment to remember he was married and that he should go home to his wife for his tea. Fortunately, she managed to keep her balance as she clattered through the door but her noisy entrance caused everyone in the bar to turn round and stare at her. Red in the face, she spotted the optics and concentrated on them as she made her way towards the overweight man wearing a Scotland rugby shirt who stood behind the large, old-fashioned wooden bar. She had known as soon as she had seen the man in the flat cap that this bar was not for her and the wolf whistles and raucous comments that accompanied her journey to the bar confirmed this for her. Determined to have a seat, she ignored the drunken rabble and waited for her turn to be served.

"Can I have a white coffee please," she asked, trying to recapture some of her dignity.

"Sorry hen, the machines knackered. I could boil you a kettle if you want I've got a jar of Nescafe." The Scottish rugby fan offered.

"Erm, no. No thanks." The thought of an instant coffee hand-made by the man in front of her was not an appealing one. Making up her mind that she was definitely not walking any further, she decided to have a glass of red wine instead. She soon wished she had not when the barman opened a small bottle and poured it, in its entirety, into a small wine glass. He then gingerly handed it over to her trying his best not to spill any of the dark red liquid.

Joy paid for her drink and then turned to see where she could sit down. In the corner of the bar there was a television perched up high on a shelf. Underneath it stood the crowd of men she had almost fallen into when she entered the dark, dingy bar. They were all standing, pint glasses in hand, watching Sky Sports News, waiting for the full time whistles to be blown around the country.

There were a few tables scattered around the floor of the bar with some booths positioned along the side of the wall. Not wishing to be sat too near to the crowd of men, she chose one of the booths and threw her bags on to a chair and then slid her way along the opposite side, her back to the lager drinking football fans.

Glad to be sitting down, she sighed contentedly taking the weight off her feet. As she sipped carefully at her glass of wine she glanced around the room. It was a typical working man's bar with stained yellow walls coated in the nicotine from years of tobacco smoke circling the room. The floor looked like it was still the original wood and the tables and chairs which sat on it would not have looked out of place on the Antiques Roadshow.

Joy knew there were a lot of eyes on her as she could hear some of the men's supposedly complimentary remarks directed towards to her. However, even although she felt a bit like the entertainment at a children's party, it was not long before she felt herself relax in the odd bar. Enjoying the warmth, the wine and not having to walk, she sat back and watched as a young solitary guy played pool at the opposite end of the bar.

She reckoned the pool player was in his late twenties, which would put him at roughly 10 years younger than she was. He was tall and slim and wore a white t-shirt with a red slogan on it, which she could not quite make out. The only words she could decipher were Vote For but who exactly she should have been putting her cross next to remained a mystery as the wearer leant over and potted a yellow ball perfectly into the corner pocket. Joy thought the younger man was good looking although she would have preferred him clean shaven rather than with the 3 day old stubble that covered his chin but that did not stop her imagining his beard scraping roughly across her chin. With nothing else to do, she sat contentedly watching the different coloured balls clacking together and rolling over the green baize. At one point the chap bent over in front of her and she secretly took delight in casting her eyes over his firm buttocks. The sight sent her into a day dream as she imagined the good looking man showing her how to hold a cue and bending her over the table.

As she continued to drink the wine she knew she should not finish the glass of merlot, knowing that she was going to have to make the dreaded drive back home but the warmth of the pub, the melodic clicking of the balls and the thought of the pool players body tight up against her as she had a firm grip of his cue, enticed Joy into drinking more and more of the intoxicating liquor.

Disappointingly, the man potted the black ball and drained his pint glass, obviously getting ready to leave the pub. Joy looked up at him as he passed her table to try and get a better look at his face before he left. Unexpectedly, he winked cheekily at her and she felt her cheeks burn and her stomach lurch. Joy quickly let her head fall to her chest and found her thumb nail to be extremely interesting. Her entire body had been enveloped in a rush of heat under his gaze, which had resulted in her feeling awkward and wishing she had not drank us much of her wine as she had. Deciding it was also time for her to leave the pub she started getting her things together when, without warning, another glass of wine appeared in front of her and the good looking pool player slid into the seat in front of her, now holding a full pint of lager.

"Hi there. Mind if I join you?"

Joy looked into the smiling eyes of the stranger in front of her.

"No, not at all. Thanks for the wine but I am driving I won't be able to drink it."

"You're kidding, right? You'll already be over the limit with that," he said motioning towards her now empty glass. "You're driving nowhere tonight little lady." With that said, he pushed the glass closer towards her. "I'm Phillip by the way."

"Joy."

"No need for the sarcasm." Phillip replied, slightly taken aback.

Joy broke into a laugh, "That's my name, not sarcasm."

Phillip smiled endearingly at her and she noticed his strong white teeth. "Oops. Sorry but I have to admit it is a Joy to meet you."

Joy felt her face flush again and she shook her head, "I'm sorry, I am not used to strangers buying me drinks. What are you up to?"

"Me? I'm not up to anything. Can't a guy buy a gorgeous woman a drink when he wants to?" Phillip asked clutching his hands beneath his chin trying to look beseeching.

"But you're not buying a gorgeous woman a drink. You're buying a drink for a woman who is probably old enough to be your mum and who, incidentally, is unable to accept your kind offer." Joy pushed the glass back towards him.

"You're hardly old enough to be my mum and you're nothing like her, that's for sure. For one she would never be in a pub on her own and for another she wouldn't be ogling men as they played pool."

"I wasn't," Joy immediately cried in her own defence. "I was just, erm. I was just... watching you play." She trailed off, failing to find any other words.

"Yeah, yeah. I saw you watching me bend over the table, eyeing up my ass as I cleared the table." Phillip pushed the wine glass back towards Joy smiling.

Joy found Phillip's smirk extremely attractive and started warming to the young chap in front of her, she returned his smile. "To be honest I wouldn't normally be in a pub on my own but I couldn't walk another step. If I could have found a café first I would have been in it and I wouldn't have been drinking wine." Once more she pushed the glass back towards Phillip.

"Girls and their heels, eh? You're just a slave to fashion."

Joy laughed, "Yeah, you're right. Us girls just have to torture ourselves on a daily basis just to look fabulous for you young boys."

"There you go again about age. It's only a number you know."

"It may only be a number to you but the difference is in double figures."

"Hey, the only figure I am interested in is yours and from where I am sitting it looks mighty fine."

Joy followed Phillip's eye line and realised that he was staring down her cleavage, which did appear to be very prominent. Not for the first time since meeting Phillip she blushed. If she had been wearing a cardigan she would have pulled it tightly around her and crossed her arms over her bust but as she did not, all she could do was look back up at the handsome stranger who was still staring down her top.

Phillip eventually managed to drag himself away from her breasts and looked directly into her eyes. Joy felt distinctly odd as their eyes locked into each other. She could feel the heat creep all down her body until it reached her toes which curled under his powerful gaze. Without realising what she was doing she lifted the glass of wine and took a drink, breaking the spell she felt she was under.

Phillip smiled and said nothing as he took a large mouthful of his lager. Joy continued to sip from her own glass. She felt out of her depth and at a loss for words, she did not know what to say next. The silence developed around them until Phillip eventually said, "Do you believe in fate?"

Joy thought carefully before answering, "My mum used to say, what is meant for you won't go past you and I guess that's believing in fate. I would like to think that everything happens for a reason."

"I couldn't agree more and I think that is why I am sitting here right now, looking at the most gorgeous looking woman in this bar."

Joy exhaled and shook her head grinning, "Come on. That's hardly fate considering there is only one other woman in this place and she looks like she could beat you in an arm wrestle."

"Aww come on. I don't look that wimpy, do I?" Phillip feigned looking hurt. "And I do find you gorgeous." He continued, now comically batting his eyelids.

Joy laughed and found herself enjoying the younger man's flirtations. "Stop it; you look like you are auditioning for an old black and white movie."

Phillip immediately put on his best Humphrey Bogart voice, "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

"Yes very good, do you do any others?"

"Come on, stop body swerving me. It's fate. You and I, together in the centre of Aberdeen."

"Actually that is a bit of a problem."

"What is? Being in Aberdeen?"

"Well funnily enough, I am not Aberdonian."

"I had guessed that but don't worry about it. I'm not racist I'll buy drinks for girls from anywhere."

"I bet you do but that's not what I meant," she pretended to reach across the table to slap him but instead he grabbed her hand, turned it over and kissed the back of it. Continuing to hold her hand he looked up into her eyes and asked, "What's the problem m'love? Let me help you with it."

"Well, I think I may just have stranded myself away from home. As you so rightly pointed out I am going to be over the limit and unable to drive. I am either going to have to find the train station or book into a hotel." She shrugged sighing. "God I am so stupid."

"Or you can crash at mine? I wouldn't mind and I am sure my flat mate wouldn't mind either."

"Eh, I don't think so. It's bad enough I am in Aberdeen, too pissed to drive but ending up sleeping at someone's house is just too much."

"Look Joy, you can get the train, which is going to cost you as much as a hotel and then come all the way back tomorrow for your car. You can try and book into a hotel at short notice with no luggage and have the receptionist look you up and down as if you were a hooker if you want. Or you can come back to mine, sleep in my bed while I crash on the couch, save the money and spend it on the next round of drinks."

Joy mulled over his words. "Thanks for the offer but I better book into a hotel. No offence but I don't know you from Adam and it wouldn't be right."

"Fair enough but it's still your round," Phillip winked at her and shook his now empty pint glass in her face.

Giving in, Joy lifted her bag and took her purse from it. Pulling out a ten pound note she handed it to Phillip. You get them in and get change for the pool table too.

He looked at her bemused, "You want to play?"

"Yes, I want to play."

"Then the lady will play," he promised as he made his way to the bar.

Returning from the bar he went straight to the pool table. Joy watched him as he bent to fit the money into the slot and push the button. Soon she heard the balls rolling down the chute ready to be placed into the triangle. She picked up her glass of wine and went over to the table just as Phillip had finished setting up the balls.

Phillip handed her change back to her but kept ten pence of it, which he flipped on to the table. "Heads or tails?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. You break," Joy urged as she sipped from her glass.

"No problem." Phillip broke and the balls scattered over the table. One red ball was potted from the break. "Looks like I am on reds then."

Joy busied herself trying to find a cue as Phillip went on to pot another red. Picking up the cube of blue chalk, Joy admired his build as he leaned over the table. She could pick out well defined back muscles through his t-shirt and had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch them as he took another shot. Unfortunately for Phillip, the red he was trying to pot ricocheted off the jaws of the pocket and stayed on the table.

Shrugging, he motioned to Joy that it was her shot. In response Joy took another mouthful of wine before picking out which yellow ball she should go for. Deciding to go for what looked like an easy shot she leant forward and placed her hand on the table. Much to Phillip's surprise, Joy coolly potted the yellow and landed up perfectly for her next ball.

Mouth still open, Phillip banged his cue on the ground to show his admiration of the shot. "You're a bit of a shark, aren't you?"

"Hmmm I don't remember saying that I couldn't play." She put to him teasingly before potting another yellow.

Phillip stood back and watched as Joy lined up her next shot. Her hand now flat on the table he cast his eyes up her arm and over the curve of her breasts, down over the arch of her back to her rounded bottom. Phillip liked what he saw. The swell of her pendulous breasts as they hung over the table and the delightful arc of her bum were turning him on as he mentally undressed her. He could easily imagine himself slotted in behind her. His hand next to hers on the green felt, his other hand around her, stroking and pinching her right nipple, his hard erect cock pushed between her wet lips as he bent her over the pool table. As she pulled her arm back to strike the white ball he could feel himself going hard as he thought of the two of them together. Still staring at Joy's bum he did not notice that she had missed her shot.

"Damn!" she exclaimed straightening up and catching Phil's stare.

Snapping out of his reverie, he hoped that his jeans weren't showing Joy exactly what he thought of her. Going to the table to play his shot he felt uncomfortable as he went to play his shot. Completely distracted be played an impossible shot and ended up potting the white.

"Eh two shots," he admitted ashamedly.

Joy grinned and said nothing as she retrieved the white ball and positioned it within the D. Calmly she went on to pot her remaining balls, which only left the black.

"I hate this bit. I always put too much pressure on myself and muck up."

"Well, feel free to muck up this shot. I can't remember the last time a woman whipped my ass and I don't want to be able to either." Phillip declared.

"Be assured, if I ever do whip your ass you will want to remember it," Joy looked wickedly at Phillip and winked seductively. "Now what bag do you want it in?"

"Never mind pool, what were you saying about whipping my ass?" he enquired. Joy laughed, ignoring his comment and nodded towards the table.

"I tell you what," Phillip bargained. "You pot the black and I'll pay for your hotel, if you miss it, you come back to mine and I sleep on the couch. What do you think? It's a win win situation. Do we have a deal?"

Joy lifted her glass and looked at him over the rim as she took a mouthful. Weighing up her options she knew that the wine was making her have fewer inhibitions than normal. Taking her time she nodded and affirmed, "Deal"

As she went to take her shot she tried to work out whether to deliberately miss the shot or not. She knew she was deeply attracted to her opponent and wanted to spend more time with him but at the same time agreeing to stay the night at his house was something she knew she should not be doing, although deep down she knew she wanted to. The other option was to leave it to fate, try to pot the black and see if she could win a hotel room for the night. Still wondering what to do for the best she took her shot. The tip of the cue connected solidly with the white, which rolled too fast towards the black. Smacking into the number 8 ball it sent the black careering towards the pocket where it rattled the jaws of it. The black then teetered on the edge, hesitating on the lip. As Joy watched with baited breath it eventually gave up its battle to stay on the table and plopped into the hole. Joy grinned wildly, pleased that she had actually managed to pot the black but then another movement on the table caught her eye, which immediately wiped the smile from her face. Phillip and Joy both watched on as the white ball disappeared down the opposing pocket at the other end of the table.

"Looks like I am on the couch tonight then," Phillip beamed, delighted at the sudden turn of events, "and I have saved at least £50."