At the end of the day, I knew she would be mine.
It was my then-girlfriend's (now wife) 25th birthday, and we'd gone out to a bar with several friends. The interior lighting was a mix of a few fluorescents in the ceiling, the billiard lights suspended over the pool tables, and plenty of neon and other signage on the walls. The bar was only moderately busy, so there was plenty of space without feeling empty. An old jukebox stood near a small dance floor, belting out an eclectic mix of country and pop music. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing a sexy skirt and top that bordered on inappropriate for public viewing. It was clear that public viewing was exactly the idea, though.
The evening progressed as one might expect. It began with a drink, a few games of pool, a few rounds of darts. A lot of talking, catching up with the latest happenings with our friends as we either sat at a table or stood around a tall, round bar table. As the night went on and the drinks added up, people began to take to the dance floor. I'm not much for dancing so although I did dance a little, I mostly watched while she danced with her friends. She's a bit of a flirt and not shy (especially after a little tequila), so the dancing eventually pushed the boundaries of what society would normally consider proper behavior. But then, she has seldom concerned herself with what others considered proper. At one point, she was dancing with another couple, with my girlfriend sandwiched between the two of them, all three in a row. If the guy's cock didn't get hard with my girlfriend's ass pressed up against it, there would have had to have been something wrong with him.
In between dancing or talking, she would come back to me now and then. But mostly, I let her have her fun. After all, at the end of the day, I knew she would be mine.
At one point (and I'm honestly not sure how), she wound up sitting on the edge of the pool table with her legs wrapped around a man's waist. Her hands were behind her supporting her, and his were on her breasts. Her head was tilted back, and she was laughing, but I knew there was a fine line between the laughter of having fun and the pleasure of being touched.
I suppose I might have been concerned or jealous, but I wasn't. At the end of the day, I knew she would be mine.
Finally, a few hours and a lot of drinks later, it was time to go home. I hadn't been drinking at all, so I pulled the car around front so she wouldn't have to walk. She wasn't fall-down or black-out drunk, but she was definitely enjoying quite the buzz. She was giggling and laughing the whole time as we got into the car. As we were about to pull out, she lifted up her shirt to flash whomever happened to be there. As it turns out, it was only the bouncer, for whom I'm quite certain was not his first time seeing someone do something like that.
We got on the road home (she'd moved in with me some time before), recapping the night as we went. She jumped rapidly from topic to topic. She peppered me with "Did you see when I..." or "Did you hear what so-and-so said?" questions, without really bothering to wait for an answer. I could tell that she was wound up and buzzed but was starting to return towards sobriety as we drove.
After about half an hour, we were nearly home. She reached over and began to caress my cock through my pants. "I hope you're not too tired," she cooed seductively.
"I'm not too tired as long as you're not too drunk," I joked.
"Honey," she said smiling, "I'm just the perfect amount of buzzed - enough to be feeling very relaxed, but not enough to regret anything tomorrow."
"Good to know," I smiled back as I pulled the car into the driveway and into the garage of the townhome we rented. I closed the garage door, and we went inside.
The door had barely closed before she turned around and pressed up against me, kissing me deeply. After a few moments she broke the kiss and looked up into my eyes demurely. "Are you sure you're not too tired? Because I'm not ready to call it a night yet." Her hands rubbing my chest and nipples through my shirt made it obvious that she wasn't talking about just a late night snack.
"Don't worry honey," I reassured her. "It might be late, but I've still got plenty of energy. It's your birthday."