I had been sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes sipping a cold one and checking out the action. Women were sitting in groups of twos and threes, some even solo enjoying their cocktails and unwinding after a hard week at the office or job or whatever they did to earn their keep. Laughter mingled with the cigarette smoke drifting lazily around the tables. All together a pleasant atmosphere where the trials of the outside world melted away. Because tonight was Saturday night and I felt strangely exhilarated.
My eyes scan the room looking for that special someone to spend the evening with when I saw you leaning against the bar while sitting on the stool. Calmly smoking a cigarette and taken leisurely sips from a frosty Margarita. You turned around and studied the crowd tasting your cold drink. I watched as you brushed away the advances of several men. But I’m intrigued. You were beguiling me from a distance. And as sure as the moth is drawn to the flame, I had to try my luck with you.
Before I set forth I looked you over. Hmmm! Perhaps late thirties, early forties. Sort of a dark blond hair. Nice solid body. Even sitting on that stool I could see you had the kind of ass that a man would love to get his hands onto. I also noticed and appreciated the solidness of your thighs and calves. Now I know many males like the big boobs, but for my money the best part of a woman’s body outside of her mind is the derriere. So stirred up and with nothing to lose but a bruise to my pride I ambled my lanky frame towards you.
“How ya doing?” I asked.
“Not bad. How about you?” you replied. You then raised your glass and took a long swig of the Margarita.
I almost stumbled over my words. Seeing your eyes for the first time took my breathe away. They are this beautiful blend of gold-green and brown overtones that are absolutely stunning. “I’m fine, thanks,” recovering from my surprise.
“Nice to know. ”you answered taking another deep draught from your Margarita. Draining the drink you set the empty glass on the bar.
“Care for another?”
“Sure why not. ”
I ordered another round of drinks from the bartender. When it arrived you suggested that we might be more comfortable finding a table instead of standing at the bar.
You led the way. The sway of your hips, an erotic beacon, guiding me through the crowd. “This looks fine. ” Then you sat at a secluded table in the dimly corner just off from the main flow of traffic.
We sat together with a view of the dance floor and engaged in small talk while we drank. It was shortly after our conversation had begun that you first stroked my crotch with the back of your hand. My immediate reaction was that it was just an accident. Then it happened again this time with a more insistent pressure. Turning your hand palm down and firmly rubbing my now hardening cock you asked how I was doing.
I was near speechless. Here I was in a secluded, though public, area with a foxy woman feeling the growing lump in my jeans. “Just fine. ” I stuttered. “How about you?”
