'Ace of Clubs.'
A wry grin spread across his face as Chris held the card out to the circle. The young woman sat to his right groaned theatrically. According to rules, an Ace signified 'waterfall', a game in which all players must drink simultaneously, only permitted to stop once the person to their left had finished. Chris was to start, and he could drink like a fish.
'Ready? Three, two, one...'
Chris raised the drink to his lips, grimacing inwardly as the sugary homemade punch coursed down his front. To his left, Charlie had her own cup to her lips, but from his vantage point Chris could see the angle of the glass was too shallow for her to be taking anything more than a sip. Charlie, noticing she'd been caught, tipped him a coquettish wink that caused a momentary flutter in his stomach. Chris lowered his glass, dismissing the look almost immediately. Charlie was a notorious flirt; it seemed almost all of Chris' friends had been taken in by her at some point. With her elfin features and petite, curvaceous figure Charlie's attentions were always welcome, but it was common knowledge that she had a long – term boyfriend. As far as Chris new, no-one else had stolen so much as a kiss; a cause of much frustration among his friends. Around him, people were lowering their drinks in the cascading pattern which had earned the game its name.
Chris' own girlfriend was on a graduate programme in Berlin, an absence which had lasted for almost six months now. Their tentative efforts at phone sex had petered out almost immediately; Liz's natural modesty and self respect, attributes which had so attracted Chris in the first place, were now obstacles to their intimacy. By now, Chris was beginning to feel the strains of his enforced celibacy. It wasn't that he was looking to be unfaithful, but the advances of other women were becoming harder and harder to turn down. A handsome man, Chris' tall, slim physique and easy smile had won him many admirers, but so far he'd held his nerve.
'Fuck man, that was savage' Across the room, Alex was beginning to look pale and unsteady. The beginnings of the familiar thousand-yard stare were creeping into his eyes. In fact, a lot of the players were looking the worse for wear; the scope for bravado and one-upmanship inherent in the game had allowed the drink to do its work. Chris grinned and boomed in a ludicrous Mockney accent:
'C'mon then sweethearts lets get down the fackin' pub, I'll get a numb arse sat around here all night' earning him a shrill laugh from Charlie. It seemed the punch was affecting him after all.
Out on the rain-slick street, Chris walked arm in arm with Ella, a vivacious black girl whose sunny outlook in the face of her mounting personal problems had seen the two become firm friends. As they made their way to the bar, chatting inconsequentially, Chris felt a small, warm hand creep its way into his. Looking around, he saw that it was Charlie. His stomach did that unsettling flutter again. So what if she does this with everyone? He thought. A little flirting can't hurt. To his right, Ella gave him a knowing look.
Chris slid his way onto the curved leather sofa, bashing his knee painfully as he did so. Fucking punch had really got its claws in. The bar was both trendy and expensive, what Chris referred to as a 'wanker's bar', the haunt of posh thugs and coke heads. The cocktails were good though, and the leather upholstered booths meant that a large group could sit and talk in relative privacy. He wasn't entirely surprised to find that Charlie had slid in beside him, close enough so that their legs were touching. He could smell her hair, her perfume. All of a sudden he felt light headed and this time he wasn't sure he could blame it on the punch.
'I got the drinks.'
Charlie's voice was sultry, yet buoyant. She was having fun. She passed Chris his cocktail, a Brazilian concoction called a 'Caipirinha' containing enough rum to pass as suitably masculine. Chris was aware that their difference in heights (standing over 6ft tall meant that he had almost six inches on Charlie) meant that he had an unobstructed view down her chiffon blouse; Charlie had selected a plunging neckline that truly accentuated her assets. True to form, she knew exactly what she was working with. Chris tried not to stare, but was drawn like a moth to a flame. She had fantastic tits, E-cups at least, and their presence on her small, slim body made them seem larger still.
Chris was dimly aware that the group had begun to filter off, some to bed, some to a nearby club for a suitable night-ender.
