Just another Saturday night and like most young, unattached males, I was wandering the honkytonks and bars in search of a one-night stand. As the evening wore on it was beginning to appear as if Lady Luck had once again abandoned me.
"Fickle Bitch," I murmured under my breath as I stood at the bar.
"Excuse me?" A soft voice said behind me.
"Huh?" I said as I turned around to face her.
"Who's a fickle bitch?" She inquired.
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't referring to anyone in particular. I was just contemplating my current situation and how it seemed that Lady Luck had deserted me."
"Oh, I see," she said as she brought her drink to her lips.
She was boldly scrutinizing me over the rim of her glass, so I responded in kind.
She appeared to be in her early twenties. Her frosted blond hair was coiffed in that carefully contrived, freshly fucked look that was vogue several years ago. Her dark brown eyes reflected the red glow from the lights behind the bar, her pupils expanding slowly. I took that as a sign of interest so I boldly continued my perusal.
The rounded mounds of her full breasts seemed to rise up to greet me from the low cut bodice of her dress. My eyes lingered on the soft flesh, imagination wandering. Finally, my gaze moved lower, past her narrow waist and around the fullness of her hips to the long tapered legs, the majority of which were exposed below the very short hem.
"Impressive," I heard her mutter.
"Yeah, I agree," was my immediate yet unthinking response.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked as I suddenly realized that there had been a verbal exchange.
"I said I'm impressed,"
"With?" I inquired.
"Let's not beat around the bush," she blurted as she leaned around me to set her empty glass on the bar. "My luck has been no better than yours tonight. Why don't you come home with me and we can compare notes and see what went wrong?"
Now I've met some pretty forward women in my day, and after twenty-eight years, my day is not a real short one, but I have never been so boldly propositioned. Frankly, it was a bit unnerving, but exciting as well.
"Works for me, darlin'. Don't you want to know my name first?"
"We'll get to that later. Let's just get out of this noisy place before my head splits open," she replied.
She grasped my hand with both of hers and then extricated the drink from my reluctant fingers, setting it on the bar alongside the other one. She turned and without relinquishing her grip, started for the door, towing me along behind.
"Leave your car here, we'll take mine," she said as we made our way across the dimly lit parking lot.
The conversation was minimal, not much more than an exchange of names during the short, yet tortuous drive through unlit back roads. I learned her name was Lucy and little else.
"Where the hell are we?" I asked as she pulled up into a darkened driveway.
"Does it matter?" she replied as she opened the door and stepped out into the night.
"Guess not," I muttered as I followed her swinging hips up the walkway and through the opened door.
Stepping into the room, I briefly appraised my surroundings as she flicked on a table lamp.
It was a small two-bedroom duplex apartment. On the opposite wall from where I stood was a small dining area that led into a tiny kitchen. The floor plan was a split bedroom design with a bedroom on either side of the living room. Both doors were open to darkened interiors.
'You live here alone?" I asked.
"No, my Mom lives here with me," was her quick reply as she kicked off her heels and approached me in bare feet.
She reached out and draped her arms over my shoulders, clasping her hands behind my head as her lips reached out for mine.
