Chapter 69
Katy Meets Conrad
Wednesday night, nine-thirty, and Katy was dressed in one of her two bar outfits. This one a red spandex dress, hem at mid-thigh. It was so tight she looked as if she'd been dipped in warm blood. To the dress she had added black boots and earrings made of green stones that clicked when she turned her head.
The country band was finishing a set when she walked into the lounge at the Blockade Runner on the ocean in Wrightsville Beach with her two best friends, which some people still call tits.
As she made her way across the empty dance floor heads turned, and male voices fell into that low rumbling sex warble men used when sizing up a good looking woman. To Katy it sounded like they were coming to rather favorable conclusions about her and her outfit.
She walked the length of the bar until she came to two men sitting at the bar with an empty stool between them. Politely, she asked if the stool was taken. Both men promptly made room for her. Katy quickly dismissed the one on her left as too coarse for her tastes. The one to her right appeared to be a decent enough prospect. After all, all Katy wanted was to get properly laid. Invariably, she needed a hard cock in her after spending a day or two making love to another woman. And while Natalie had certainly gotten her off, ever since her first relationship with a woman, she had always had an overwhelming desire to have a nice dick between her legs by the following night.
Katy perched herself up on the wooden stool, looked across at her reflection in the mirrors behind the bar and snapped her head to the right, clicking the green stones hanging from her ears. The lady bartender eased in front of her, gave the two men an eye roll, and then asked to see Katy's ID.
"Hey, thanks," Katy said with a broad grin. "I'm thirty years old."
"I need to look at it, honey."
"You show me yours and I'll show you mine," Katy replied, turning the grin into a wide smile.
"Yeah, said the male Katy had already rejected, "Let's see yours, Daisy."
The bartender held her hand out for the identification, so Katy reached into her purse, and produced her driver's license. After scrutinizing the license for longer than necessary, Daisy asked what Katy wanted to have.
"Whatever he's drinking," she said, pointing to the man to her right.
"Whoa," said the man to her left, "I done struck out already," and he farted deliberately.
"Now that wasn't nice," the other man said.
"Tough shit," the other responded.
"No fighting in here, guys," Daisy worriedly called out, already thinking of the potential damage the two could cause.
"Wait right here," the man to the right of Katy said to her; getting up and grabbing the other man by his wrist, and twisting it behind his back.
"Ow!" He bellowed, even as the aggressive man moved him quickly and efficiently to the side entrance, and then out into the parking lot.
"I think you just set the record," the bartender said to Katy, feeling relief over not having to contend with a brawl so early in the evening.
"What do you mean?" Katy asked.
"You're only in the place ... what, maybe a minute and the guys are fighting over you."
"Must be the dress," Katy said, picking up her drink, a scotch and soda.
The bartender laughed. "I guess. I wore something that tight ... no offense, now, but a dress that tight I'd expect to be getting laid for sure."
"Those are my expectations, but don't tell the guys, eh."
Both women laughed, and Daisy refilled Katy's drink, and after patting her affectionately on the arm, said, "That one's on the house."
Just then the side door opened and the man Katy had picked sauntered back into the lounge.
"Any trouble?" Katy inquired innocently.
"No, did you expect any?"
"I wasn't sure. After you led him out, I didn't think you'd be the one with a problem." She looked up at him over the rim of her glass.
"Conrad Gentner," he said. "Friends call me Rad."
"For Radical?"
He laughed, and his eyes took in her body under the skintight material.
"No, but that's a good one, I'll have to remember it. Actually it's short for Conrad."
"I don't think I've ever met a Conrad before. Oh, my name's Katy, Katy Dide. And, please, no stupid remarks on the name. My parents punished me enough, thank you."
Katy could see the heat growing in his eyes as he all but devoured her. She let her mouth come open a crack. Moved her tongue around inside her mouth just a little, exploring her teeth. Conrad adjusted his breathing.
"Um, you from around here?"
"Yes," she said, "Born and raised here."
"I haven't seen you here before."
"Till tonight I hadn't sunk this low."
Conrad smiled, and Katy smiled back.
"You do anything to that guy?"
"I did, as a matter of fact."
Katy hummed her appreciation. "Hurt him bad?"
"He needs to get his ass to a dentist," Conrad said calmly.
Katy laughed. "Hurt your hand?"
"Not so's you'd notice," he replied, holding up his right hand for her examination. It had slight scratches across the knuckles, nothing serious.
"So what kinda things do you enjoy, Rad?"
Conrad dropped his hand to her knee.
Katy placed her hand on his and moved it up her thigh.
"I asked you a question, Rad."
"I like lots of things," he said, and forgot about offering her a taste of the cocaine back in his hotel room, thinking he wouldn't need it with this hot number.
"Name one."
He took a long sip of his scotch; brought his voice down low. "Something I do to her, or maybe something she does to me." It wasn't a question, but a statement.
"Maybe something she does for you." Katy gave him her lewdest grin, and added, "Something none of the other girls will do for you."
"You want me to pay you?" he asked, the irritation of doing so obvious in the timbre of his voice.
"No, no, Rad," Katy protested, drawing in a patient breath. "Are you that hard up, you'd be willing to pay someone?"
