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Copyright 1999 by Rod Harden All rights reserved |
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He wasn't looking for any action at the bar that night. He'd worked late and just wanted a quick drink to relax before heading home to the wife and kids. He sat alone in the empty bar thinking empty thoughts.
After a few sips, a woman sat on the stool beside him and ordered a drink. He glanced her way. Another beautiful woman I'll never have, he thought. "Hi," he said half-heartedly. She smiled. "Hello." She looked him up and down. "I'm Angela." He nodded but did not smile back. "Phil," he replied, turning away at the same time. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks. He tried to ignore her, but eventually she caught his eye. She cocked her head flirtatiously. "You waiting for someone special, Phil?" she asked. Her voice was a low silky clarinet. He shook his head in answer and looked away again. He wasn't interested in making small talk. But more important, he didn't want to acknowledge how attractive she was, how aroused he became when he looked at her. Had he ever felt such surges when he looked at his wife? He couldn't remember. "I've never seen you here before," she persisted. He sighed, giving in to her attempt to converse. "I don't come here very much." "I didn't think so." He'd finished his drink and began fumbling for his wallet. "Can I buy you another?" she asked. He again looked at her, knowing he should just decline and leave. He swallowed hard. "Uh, sure." It was as if someone else answered in his voice. With a fresh drink in front of him, he nervously allowed himself a long lingering look at her. She sat tall and erect, staring straight ahead, tacitly inviting his scrutiny. She wore a short, scoop neck black dress. She had an oval face and dark complexion. Her coffee hair, meticulously unkempt, fell wildly to her shoulder. His eyes followed the curve of her shoulder to the inviting gap between her breasts, where he dared to let his gaze rest. Just then she seemed to get a chill, and hugged her arms around herself. Doing so, she pushed her breasts higher, more prominently into view. He caught his breath audibly, and her lips curled into a knowing half-smile. She turned to regard him, but again he looked away, trying to ignore the urgent tightening in his trousers. She was young, much too young for him, he told himself. Why was she so obviously coming on to him? Why would she be wasting her time on him? Or was he just kidding himself? As if in answer to his silent questions, she spoke. "You're kind of cute, you know? I bet your wife doesn't appreciate what she's got." "She-" He started to answer, then wondered how this woman knew he was married. Again, she seemed to read his thoughts, and glanced meaningfully at the band on his finger. Whatever he was about to say vanished from his mind. She finished her drink, and set her empty glass down noisily. "Now it's your turn to buy me one." Her dark magnetic eyes held his gaze. "Oh, yeah. Sure," he stammered, signaling the bartender. As soon as she got her drink, she started to stand up. She swung her leg around to get off the stool, pausing to lightly scratch a spot on her thigh. In doing so she pulled up the hem of her dress, giving him a clear glimpse of the tops of her stockings and the clips of the garter belt holding them up. Once she was standing, she slowly smoothed out her dress. Starting just below her breasts, she seemed to caress her own body in just the way he wished he could. Without realizing it, he licked his lips as she started to walk away. He watched as she found an empty table. Her high heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floor. They seemed to reverberate in time with the throbbing of his desire. She walked in slow motion, each movement of her legs, her hips, her arms, a seduction. When she finally got to the table, she turned and looked back at him. She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise to find him still staring after her, and again cocked her head, beckoning him to her. Teaser
He felt his heart racing. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to control himself, but the animal part of his brain had taken over. The question "why?" no longer had any frame of reference. This was real, and it was happening now, to him.
He didn't remember moving, but suddenly found himself sitting across the tiny round table from her. He managed to breathe again. "So, uh, maybe we can go out for a bite to eat," he suggested. His throat was dry, and he felt himself choking on his own raspy lust.
She looked past him, still smiling. "No," she said, "I don't think so."
He hesitated, unsure. "Well, um, then I suppose we could just stay here and get to know each other a little."
Again the distant look. "No, I'd rather be alone right now."
His heart was still racing, but now it began to beat with something other than lust. "I- I thought you were, you know, interested."
Now she looked directly at him. "I don't know what you mean," she said without expression.
His lip quivered in frustration. He felt the blood rush to his face. "You know perfectly well what I mean. Just now at the bar-"
"Well," she said, again looking past him. "I'm not interested. Phil."
He stared at her, a pained expression contorting his face. "Now look here," he said, his voice rising uncontrollably. "Maybe you think this is some kind of a joke, but- you can't just DO that to a guy. You can't just-" His voice broke, humiliated.
She looked at him again, a cold smile on her face. "I'm so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression," she said flatly, with a careless shrug of her shoulders.
"Dammit!" he shouted. "You get a guy all worked up... And then you-" He pointed his finger at her ominously, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring. "You could get yourself in a lotta trouble, little girl. A LOTTA trouble! So be careful. Just be fucking careful!"
Slamming his glass down, he rose violently. He stood there for a moment glaring at her, seething. Then he turned and stormed out the exit. She watched with a satisfied grin until the door closed behind him.
She waited a couple of minutes, then stood and headed for the same exit.
It was already dark outside and the parking lot was poorly lit. She walked slowly, casually, toward her car, not bothering to get the keys out. A chill went down her spine. When she got to her car, she finally began rummaging through her purse to find the keys.
Just then she heard a sound behind her. She spun around quickly, expectantly. But there was nothing there.
She exhaled heavily, and turned again to unlock the car. She stood for a moment as though waiting for something. There was another sound, then suddenly, he was on her, pushing her roughly against the car. His left arm circled her chest and his right hand gripped her wrist, knocking the keys to the ground. "You didn't think I'd let you get away with that little stunt, did you?" His voice was like shoveling gravel.
Despite his painfully tight grip, she smiled to herself. She could practically taste his lust for her. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, deeply, relaxing her tensed muscles. "No, Phil, I didn't."
She waited for him to do or say something else, but instead felt him loosen his grip. With startling speed and well honed movements she flipped her wrist, grabbing his in turn. At the same time she broke his hold on her chest, and spun around. An expert twist of his wrist, and he was completely immobilized.
His expression of shock and hurt caused her to laugh out loud. "You'll have to do much better than that, Phil." She released her grip with a shove, almost knocking him off his feet. "Now try it again. And don't disappoint me this time."
He rubbed his wrist, staring at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "What the hell is this? Who are you?"
She regarded him coolly. "What do you care? You want me, don't you?" She picked up the keys, and dropped them back in her purse. Then she turned and pretended to be having a hard time finding them again. The sound of his breathing told her he was still there. He smelled of alcohol and breath mints.
At last she turned to look at him. She saw a frightened, lost puppy. "Are you going to do something or not?"
He shook his head slowly. "You're crazy, lady. You know that? You're completely wacko." He turned and walked quickly away.
She watched him walk off, her shoulders sagging. Then slowly she turned one last time to unlock the car. She paused for a moment, waiting, then pulled the door open and got in.
Her smile had long since faded as she finally slid into the driver's seat. She sat there staring at the dash. Then, slowly, she reached up with one hand and began to caress her own breast. She found the hardened nipple through the cloth of her dress and bra, and pinched it. Again and again she pinched herself, harder and harder, until it brought tears to her eyes.
At the same time, she pulled up the hem of her dress with her other hand, and slid her finger beneath her panties, already damp with her arousal. She quickly found her hard nub. With slow, firm motions she pleasured herself determinedly, ruthlessly. Soon a loud moan escaped through her staccato breathing. Satisfied for the moment, she sat back and caught her breath.
Through misty eyes she found the ignition switch and started the engine. Then she eased the car onto the street, and drove off into the lonesome night.
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