Reckless Behavior

Jessica Munn sat at the end of the bar, feeling faintly ridiculous. Her husband hadn't even batted an eye when she had spoken with him just yesterday.

"Come out with me, or I'm going alone," she had told him.

He hadn't bothered to look up from what he was doing. "That's fine hun." Before she could ask if she needed to get a sitter, he stirred a little more. "Wait, if you go out alone, who's going to watch Billy?"

So that had been another chore, explaining to Jaime that yes, he could handle putting their young son to bed.

The thrill of going out into the world by herself had worn off quickly. She had hoped for a small adventure, to match the few times in her younger life when she had leaped without looking. She had never done anything too crazy, and this wasn't even measuring up to those past experiences.

Colton was a small town, but fortunately not so small that everyone knew everyone. A satellite community of a large nearby city, its location managed to draw a good mix of people to the microbrewery she had selected in the center of town. The beer was good enough and the atmosphere pleasant enough that it tended to draw a younger, more interesting crowd, and was largely shunned by the boring locals.

The outside of the brewery was not glamorous. When she arrived, the sun had fully set, though the early autumn air remained warm and pleasant. The brewery was housed in a single-story industrial building, which it shared with other businesses, all closed at this time of night. Fortunately, the interior was far more welcoming; hip and lively, the inviting light gleamed off of the chic lacquered wood. It was a nice place, but not so fancy that she felt out of place in her denim cutoffs and simple t-shirt.

So here she sat. Cataloging bar smells: the scent of stale beer mixed with perfume, hope with just a tinge of desperation. Married for 15 years, she had rarely visited bars like this in her youth. All of her twenties (good years, she had to admit), gone forever. She breathed in that bar smell again.

Happy young people chattered all around her. She felt apart from the other bar patrons. "Just chat someone up!" she told herself. She wasn't exactly ancient. In her mid-thirties, she stood tall and lean. True, she had borne a child, so her body wasn't the one she had worn at 18. But she got looks when she went to the beach, even with Billy in tow. She wasn't what you would call voluptuous, but she filled out a bikini in all the right places. Was she beautiful? Her long dark hair framed a face that she thought was at least pretty. It could be hard to tell what men thought. She caught them looking at her sometimes, their hunger sometimes eliciting fear, their eagerness sometimes eliciting an even more buried feeling. She could never tell if their reactions were due to her looks specifically, or if they were all just pigs who would fuck anything with a pulse. She thought about her husband's indifference of late and wondered.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The stranger's voice startled her. He had snuck into the very last seat at the end of the bar and was looking at her with intensity, though he carried an inviting air about himself.

She was a little annoyed. He had in fact already joined her. She'd look like a jerk if she said no, but despite her loneliness, she hadn't quite been prepared for someone so... direct.

"Suit yourself," she said without turning.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am." Christ, was she already a 'ma'am' at age 34? She must have nonverbally signaled annoyance because he quickly added, "Perhaps we could exchange names and dispel the formality that arises from unfamiliarity." It wasn't a question. "My name is Kieran."

This fucking guy. He was quick, she had to hand that to him. She should probably tell him to (politely) fuck off, in part because she didn't want to waste his time.

She did not turn to face him, tossing "I'm Jessica Munn," over her right shoulder before quickly amending: "Jess."

"Well, Jess. It's a pleasure to meet you. Can I buy you a drink?"

Jess looked at her beer, which was now empty. It was only then that she turned and threw Kieran her full attention. He was not what she was expecting. Physically, he was quite large. Though he was sitting, he was obviously over six feet. He was thickset, powerfully built, but not a body builder by any means. Her first impression of him was that he was rudimentary, elemental, as if he had been hewn from a block of wood. His prominent brow was suggestive of a caveman, though his nose and mouth were softer than that, more evolved. His wild brown hair and his well-trimmed beard were both greying. He was wearing jeans and a careworn plaid shirt. About her own age, she guessed, maybe a little older. She found herself surprised at the warmth and humor emanating from his pale grey-green eyes. Annoyed and flustered with him, she decided fuck it, he could buy her a drink.

"Okay. The Witbier."

He nodded and ordered, selecting an IPA for himself. "I know, I know, it's a very cliched choice. What can I say? I like the taste."

Jess didn't have much of an opinion on beers, and remained silent. Kieran was determined. "So, Jess, what do you do?"

"I'm a homemaker." She flicked at her ring with her thumb. "I take care of our house and our farm. And I take care of our son."
"Brutal."

"Because I'm not single?"

He laughed, full of warmth and genuine amusement. "No, that just sounds like a ton of work. I am, it must be confessed, a rather carefree man."

"What is it that you do?" She asked in spite of herself.

"It's embarrassing... I write songs."

She snorted a little. "You're a musician?"

"I really think of myself more as a poet. You have to have musicality to do my job, sure. I don't perform the songs though, I just write them."

"I see." Jess wanted to ask more, but she also didn't want to lead him on too much. Fortunately, he seemed to be in a voluble mood.

"I know it sounds dumb. I tell people I'm a songwriter, a musician, a poet. They all sound a little too stuck up, a little too fancy for a dude like me. I like poet the best."

"They are all a little ritzy," Jess agreed. "I don't think I've ever met a poet before."

"Oh, I'm sure you have." Kieran threw her a knowing expression. "You may even be one yourself."

Jess scoffed a little at this. "I don't think I've written a poem since high school. Nothing very good."

Kieran shrugged. "Have you ever heard the expression 'drunk as a poet on payday?'"

Jess laughed. "No, that's a new one for me."

"That's what I think about poets: people with large appetites that they yearn to express."

"Well, that's definitely not me." Jess indicated the beer that the bartender had brought her. "This is only my second beer and I'm already well on my way to being drunk." She winced at her admission of intoxication.

Kieran seemed not to notice this tic, fixing her with his strangely intense stare. "Not all appetites are for food or drink."

"Do I strike you as a person of great appetite?" Jess asked, considering the question herself. Certainly not for food or booze.

Kieran did not immediately answer her question. "I have this theory: that the people who create art are not the only poets. The people who inspire art are also poets. Is the source of inspiration any less responsible for the poem than the writer?"

Kieran was a little out there, but his earnestness was palpable. The rational part of Jess's brain resisted his nonsense. But the rest... "Without the writer, there would be no poem, no song," she countered.

"Without the inspiration there would be nothing, either. It sounds a little crazy, but sometimes I see inspiration. I swear to god. It's like synesthesia for me. I stop seeing the object of inspiration, and I start seeing their energy, their aura."

"Auras? Sounds a little too hippy for me."

Kieran laughed, a quick, abrupt bark. "I know. It sounds nuts. I hate trying to describe it - I can't describe it." He paused, looked down, and then fixed her once again with his gaze. He looked trepidatious for the first time. "You're a beautiful woman, Jess, but your aura is so strong that it hurts to look you in the eyes. It's like pure energy pouring off of you - I noticed the second I stepped into the room. The intensity of it..." he trailed off, looking doubtful for the first time. "Do you see any of that in me?"

"No," she lied.

Kieran shrugged, his massive shoulders heaving up and down. "It's not a perfect system." He looked inconsolably sad then, as if he had been completely hollowed out. It lasted only a moment, and then his ruddy buoyancy snapped fully back into place. "Sorry to get so intense on you. Will you tell me about your farm?"

They talked then, about her farm and his music, about their shared taste in books and movies. When they agreed, they agreed very strongly. When they disagreed, Jess noticed that once or twice the passion of their argument drew a look from the bartender and a few of the other patrons.

Jess found herself warming to this man. He had traveled broadly, first as a soldier and then again in a more leisurely way after he had sold a couple of hit songs. He was surprisingly sheepish about his work.

"I think you've probably heard of them," he conceded about the songs that he had written. When she pressed and he relented, naming his biggest hits, she couldn't hide her surprise.

"Those are..." She stammered.

"Much poppier than you expected?" He looked sheepish.

"Yes, but." She felt as sheepish as he looked. "But I love those songs. Dig Your Man in particular. The beat bumps and the lyrics just burrow their way into your head."

"Yeah. Not my most soulful work. But I'm proud of all my songs, and ones like Dig Your Man really pay the bills."

Jess must have been feeling her beer because she asked, "How much?"

He chuckled. "Enough that I can drive a nice car to nowhere in particular, hang out in bars, and talk to beautiful women."

She affected mock-shock. "You mean you do this often?"

"This? I'm never this lucky." He had become serious. "But I do often find myself in bars talking to interesting people. Not all auras are sexual."

"But mine is?"

"Yours is everything. You are full spectrum - every wavelength thrumming. A kaleidoscope of energy just pouring off of you."

"So you weren't trying to fuck me earlier?" She noted the tiny flicker of surprise on his face, but she felt more shocked than he looked at her own comment.

He answered very slowly. "I was. I am" - this added with an impish grin - "but I am happy to experience you on whatever terms you set."

"And if I wanted to - renegotiate those terms?"

"I've made it clear where I stand on the matter. The rest is up to you."

Jess took a moment before responding. The beer - she was now halfway through her third - was certainly getting to her. She tried to be honest with herself and failed. She wasn't sure if she had come out tonight looking for someone like Kieran. Certainly not exactly like him - she would have preferred someone a little neater, a little more fit.

She thought of Jaime. Who fucked her like a mannequin. Who hadn't even taken her once in the last year. To hell with him, she could flirt a bit more, maybe make out a little. Kieran was obviously a player, and she could play with him. It's not like she was going to get in his car and disappear over the horizon.

She fixed Kieran with a smile that she hoped was mischievous. "Play your cards right, sailor, and you might be in for a bit of fun."

He looked directly at her, almost through her, it felt like. His aura bullshit was starting to seem more real. She thought that she could feel pulses of energy coming off of him, like standing in the ocean and feeling the waves rhythmically raise her up and set her down again. Not frantic, not urgent, but a slow, steady sense of an immense and bottomless energy. She tried to tell herself that it was the beer.

"I don't want you to think I'm impatient or bored with you, but I think you need to decide now." He stood up and she was surprised by just how tall she was, at least six inches taller than her five foot ten inches. He looked down at her in the bar stool. "This can be as much or as little as you want it to be. I'm pretty sure you'll regret it if it's nothing at all." With that, he strode across the room and exited through a side door.

Jess sat there feeling like she was going insane. Joining him was not something that a sensible woman would do. Her husband had wronged her no more than his general indifference. She wasn't on birth control either.

...what the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she even thinking about birth control? She wasn't going to fuck some stranger she met an hour and a half ago because she was horny and her husband was lame. Kieran was fun and he had signaled a willingness to engage with her on whatever terms she desired. So she would join him. Be a little naughty, make out just a bit. Maybe. And then go back home.

She found Kieran behind the brewery and around the corner, standing by the loading dock of what appeared to be an auto parts warehouse. The dock itself was nothing but a waist high concrete area about five feet in length, terminating in a closed steel door. The whole area was overhung but a rudimentary roof, supported by steel poles. Though the dock was largely illuminated by a sodium light, he stood just out of the reach of its beam, shrouded in darkness. He had an unlit cigarette in his mouth. The area was on the other side of the building, away from the brewery's parking lot. The blank walls of the industrial building faced the trees which crowded the building on three sides. Jess was surprised to realize that the building blocked all the sounds coming from the brewery.

She moved close to him, unsure of what to do next. Even being this close to him was having a profound effect on her. Standing right up next to his huge frame felt like standing in the cone of a volcano.

She didn't know what to say. She managed "You smoke?"

He shook his head vehemently and threw the still-whole cigarette away. "No, I used to. Filthy habit though. I quit about ten years ago, but I still miss it. Most people think I'm nuts, but holding an unlit cigarette in my mouth helps get me through sometimes."

"That is really strange. I would have thought - "

"You didn't come out here to talk about cigarettes."

"No." Her heart was beating very fast.

"What do you want to happen now?"

"Kiss me." She said it before her good sense could object.

Kieran needed no other preamble or persuasion. He leaned in for a kiss and all at once she could taste the sharpness of the IPA on his tongue. She felt his body hunch over her - practically surround her - as he bent down to touch his mouth to hers.

She felt herself being swept away and allowed it. His powerful hands caressed her firmly. Self-assured, but not aggressive. They explored each other's mouths with mounting urgency. Jess was just thinking that this moment could last forever when Kieran broke away from her abruptly. Jess looked up at him, bewildered.

"Sorry! Awkward position." He moved towards her and she backed up instinctively a few feet until she felt a steel support pole pressing at her back. Kieran's right arm moved between her legs. She wondered if he thought that she was really going to fuck him after a few kisses. But his hand didn't attempt to unbutton her pants. Rather, he lifted her bodily off of the ground. She straddled his arm as she rose, listening to his hand sliding up the metal pole at her back. When she was at eye level, he let her drop a little bit and, finally satisfied with her height, she heard his hand close around the pole. Then he leaned forward and began kissing her again, more passionately than before. She leaned back against the pole, sitting on his arm, and let him press in towards her. His left hand reached up and caressed her head with surprising tenderness as their tongues pressed against each other and receded.

She caught herself rocking back and forth on his arm as she kissed him, her arousal growing by the second. She wondered how long he could hold her up like that. Though fit, she wasn't a small woman, and even the most petite woman would still become difficult to hold for the length of time that they embraced.

She was unsure of how long they kissed. Time could be funny in a moment like this. She would draw back, teasing him, and he would pursue eagerly, never fully breaking contact with her. Then she would push back, daring him to stop. He would yield only a little before ceasing all backwards movement. An immovable object for her to press up against.

Then all at one she pulled back and he did not follow. They remained in their respective positions - him standing, her straddling his arm awkwardly - and pressed their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

The first sense that came to Jess in that moment was smell. First and foremost, his musk. Cologne and the scent of a man. Then, hilariously, the odd hint of stink. She tried to place it and realized that the stench of a nearby dumpster lingered just at the edge of her perception. Not nearly enough to overwhelm her, but just enough to help remind her of where she was. Of the wrongness of what she was doing. Somehow, that stink only enhanced the thrill.

The next thing she noticed was that her jeans were damp, and that he surely must have noticed this moisture on his arm. She felt embarrassment wash over her. "Your arm, I'm sorry!" she blurted. "You can put me down," she hastily added.

He looked a little surprised, but complied instantly, gently lowered her to the ground. "My arm's fine. I'd tell you if it wasn't."

"No, I didn't mean -- " she started. "I wasn't calling you weak. I just... your arm probably got a little damp."

That clarion laugh of his filled the air, and she gave a quick look around, but the area remained deserted. "I am delighted by a little dampness. Besides, you're not the only one who got a little excited." He gestured to his crotch.

Flustered by the sight of his engorged member straining at his pants, Jess apologized again. "I didn't mean to..."

"You're sorry for exciting me? Darling, you have a strange sense of things."

"Yes. No! I mean..." The thoughts collided in her head like a twenty car pile up. She hated being flustered like this, and she worried that she would ruin the moment. Above the confusion, there was one thought blasting through her brain and she put voice to the idea before she could stop herself. "Show me."

He did not laugh at her request or make any sort of gesture of shyness, but neither did he hesitate. He zipped efficiently down and hauled forth his manhood. It sat there between them a moment, almost a third party to their evening activities. Jess looked down, regarding it with interest. This was only the fourth penis she had seen in her entire life. There was her high school boyfriend's, her husband's, and of course Billy's. Only the third adult one she had ever seen in the flesh.

The first thing that struck her was that he was uncircumcised. The head of his dick peeked out from the skin surrounding it. She felt a moment of nervousness - she was unfamiliar with this. She tabled it for now - a dick was a dick, right? - and she considered the rest of the unit. It seemed a little longer than her husband's and considerably thicker. It wasn't ludicrously large or grotesque. It looked... nice.

She glanced back up to Kieran, who remained silent, looking impassive. Was it thicker than her husbands? Her hand shot out to test before her rational mind could even contemplate the action. He grunted softly as she took him in her hand. At first she just held him, sizing him with her hand. She looked intently at his genitals as she touched him. Her instincts had been correct. He was larger than the previous two penises she had dealt with. Not so large as to be uncomfortable. She was very curious exactly how he would feel inside her.