Venting - 750 Word Story

This story was written for the 750 Word Project 2024, below this line are exactly 750 words:

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The door slammed shut and Julie slammed her purse down on the counter. I heard her grab a glass out of the cupboard and the sound of a bourbon bottle popping open. Her 4" heels clicked on the hardwood floors as she angrily strode into the living room.

"I need to vent," she said. "That was the worst date ever!"

I chose to keep quiet and let her get it all out.

"First of all, he was 20 minutes late to meet me at Andre's. I was starting to think he was going to stand me up!" she spat out. "I was just about to leave when he showed up. His picture must have been from 10 years and 40 pounds ago. He told me to dress up - you saw the text - so I went all out, as you can see," Julie said, gesturing to her well-fitting little black dress.

"So, what does he wear to dress up? Shorts, a golf shirt, and sandals. I felt so overdressed, ugh!"

She was rolling now.

"He had so much personality in our texts, but face-to-face? It was like talking to a beige wall. I started wondering if he had a partner like Cyrano feeding him lines - turns out, he used Chat GPT to come up with what to say. And I didn't even ask him, he bragged about it!"

Julie took a big swig of her bourbon before she continued.

"Thank God we were at Andre's. The food there is spectacular, so I just focused on my delicious chicken carbonara and started to enjoy myself, then the fucking bill came," she said, finishing her glass and silently rushing to the kitchen for a refill, her heels long since discarded.

"So, the bill comes and this asshole 'forgot' his wallet. Like, of course you did!" Julie said as she walked back into the room. "I wound up having to buy dinner at Andre's for the both of us!"

She took another large drink of the brown nectar, before plowing forward with her story.

"I should have just called it a night at that point, but he convinced me that he's a great dancer and you know how I love to dance, so we went next door to that new nightclub. It's so cool in there, you'd love it. Anyway, we go in - after I pay the cover, of course - and find a spot on the dance floor. I have to give him a little credit, he wasn't the best dancer I've ever seen, but he wasn't bad. I was starting to let my hair down and relax. Then, a slow song came on."

Julie slumped back in her chair.

"He pulled me in close and pressed his body against me. That part was fine. Then his hands started roaming, over my ass and tits, trying to reach up under my dress. It was like fighting off a horny octopus!" she said with an eye roll.

"So, I finally get away to the ladies room. I'm in there checking my makeup when the lady next to me says, 'Hey, are you here with Mike Hawk?' I'm like, yeah, why? She goes, 'I came here with him two weeks ago, this must be his spot.'"

"I tell her that I'm a little pissed that he forgot his wallet and I had to pay for shit, and she says 'OMG, he did that with me, too!' Like, of course! He's a fucking scammer. I'm about to say something else, when she says, 'I never should've gone home with him.'"

Julie slammed back the rest of her drink, loudly banging her glass down on the table.

"I looked at her like she had bugs crawling out of her eyes. She goes, 'Girl, his apartment is a hole and his dick is small. Get out!' I was so pissed! That motherfucker lied to me about everything! I made up some bullshit excuse, ran, and got the fuck out of there."

Julie sat up and looked me in the eyes. "Thank you for letting me vent. Fuck, I really wanted him to be as advertised. What a dick. If all my dates were like that, I'd never go out again!"

She stood and started walking down the hall, stripping off her little black dress, before turning to look back at me. "I know that you'd prefer to reclaim me, but you're going to have to fuck the frustration out of my fresh pussy instead. Your hot wife needs you!"