A lot like a woman does, the city loses her ordinariness at night, and slips on her lights like a pretty evening dress.
I love to put on my city lights.
I slipped on a long red sequined halter dress with a high slit. Stepped into red leather high heeled sandals. Sprayed a few puffs of perfume on my neck, felt the wet spots turn warm. Felt the silky caress of red diamond-shine lip gloss as I applied it, bringing out my full pouty lips. A pair of diamond-stud earrings completed my look.
My red dress went perfectly with my smooth milk chocolate-brown skin. It clung to my slinky, curvy build, and brought out my long lines. My blue eye shadow brought out my deep black eyes. My nails, disappointingly short, I left unpolished. My long straight black hair, which went down almost to the small of my back, I wore down and natural.
I was all glittery and sparkly. Like the city. City lights glowed and sparkled all around me as I drove to the club. Green lights. Red lights. White lights. Even blue lights. The city lights glistened and sparkled, lending a romanticism to the city.
My long slim fingers felt burdened tonight by my rings, by all the jewelry Antoine felt the need to buy for me. I suppose he thinks that with a recent promotion in the firm where I work, I suddenly don't need him any more. Maybe I don't. What a stupid man he can be sometimes -- insecure, too.
I took them all off when I got in my car, except for a gold watch that I bought, and a dainty gold ankelet on my right ankle.
My girl friend Dawn and I met for dinner and drinks at the Blue Parrot, which sits at the apex of where two streets meet, like a triangle. Even the lighting in the club was a pattern of sparkles on deep black night, with candles on the tables.
We both got all dressed up for our dinner tonight. Dawn wore a long slinky black beaded slip dress, and matching heels, that went well with her pale brown skin and curly brown hair. It was a girls night out for both of us. No significant male others were with us. In Dawn's case, her man was babysitting her two kids.
We sat in splendour, laughing quietly at all the guys staring at us and practically drooling all over themselves. Not openly, though. It doesn't do to laugh out loud at brothers, and others, who show their appreciation for two beautiful sisters. Men's egos are as delicate as egg shells, I swear.
But there was these guys at the bar, obviously out on the town together, just like us girls. And one of those guys kept looking at me. I could see the longing in his face, no, something more than longing...
He was about medium height, with short scruffy blond hair, sparkly hazel eyes, with a look about him that just made me want to spread my legs and invite him over to find out what's in between. He wore blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and wire-framed glasses with small rectangular lenses. And he was white.
What would my boyfriend say? No, I already know what he'd say!
I deliberately shifted away and recrossed my legs. Shifted away from his eyes.
Dawn and I gave each other little looks and giggled through our hands.
We ate, drank, toasted, laughed. Had a good time.
Then the waiter put the bill on our table. I just knew we had racked up close to, if not over, a hundred dollars on the bill -- for dinner, dessert, and a bottle of good, expensive wine. But I wasn't worried. Dawn said dinner was on her and she would take care of it. So I didn't bring anything with me but some petty cash. Just out of curiousity, I picked up the fancy leather folder, opened it, and glanced at our bill. It was just over ninety dollars. Not bad.
Then I noticed Dawn was rummaging through her purse, like she'd forgotten something.
"Shit."
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot my credit cards."
"You're kidding." I let my face fall in my hands. I should have worried. I looked at Dawn again. "Please tell me you're kidding."
"Don't you have yours?"
"No. Because you said it was your treat."
"Shit."
I wanted to sink through the floor. A big red stop light was blinking on our ladies' night. I visualized myself doing dishes late into the night, wearing a little white apron over my fancy red dress, until our men rescued us.
All of a sudden the guy from the bar came over to our table, took out his wallet, and put a hundred dollar bill on our little leather folder.
We looked at each other, then I said, politely, "Thank you, but--"
Dawn stopped me. "What she means, is that we really appreciate you helping us." She looked at me. "Right?"
I swallowed my first reaction. I smiled instead. "Right."
There was a moment of awkward silence. The guy said, "Well. I hope you lovely ladies have a good night."
We chorused, "Thank you."
The guy grinned, then stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled back to the bar. But my pussy still felt all tingly, especially as I watched him stride his way back to his buddies at the bar. After he left, I looked at Dawn. "You sure are one lucky lady tonight."
Dawn had her face in her hands, totally embarrassed. But she had the nerve to look at me and say, "Not lucky. Just fortunate." Then she stood up. "I would say let's stay late and see the band. But I should check on the kids."
I also stood. I was very relieved. "Yeah. I have to leave soon, too. It's getting a little late."
Dawn smiled, then she gave me a short hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Good night. We'll have to do this again sometime." Then she left. I sat back down at the table, and slowly drank the rest of my wine, as I finished my dessert.
The waiter came over and picked up the check, with the hundred dollar bill. "Will there be anything else tonight, miss?"
"No, thank you." We'd had dinner, and dessert, and wine. What else could I want, besides that man at the bar? I gestured to the check. "Keep the change."
The waiter brightened up. "Have a good evening, miss."
I smiled at him. "Thank you." I finished my dessert, and drained my wine glass in one swallow. Then I went to the bathroom. I went into the stall, hiked up my dress, pulled down my panties, and noticed how the slit of my neatly groomed pussy was glistening. I could feel the heat emanating from it.
I was embarrassed and amazed. My boyfriend never made me this horny! And we made ourselves wait a few weeks before sex. Actually, I'd made my boyfriend wait a few weeks.
But now, this gorgeous man that paid the dinner tab, made me wet -- and I didn't even know his name!
I did my business, then collected myself as best I could. I placed both hands firmly on the edge, eyes closed, and repeated to myself, "I'm in a relationship."
"I'm in a relationship."
When a sister asked me if I was okay, I put on a perky smile and said, "Yes, thank you. I'm fine." I started to put on fresh lipstick and lip gloss. But that only made me wish that man was standing in the doorway to watch me.
Stop it, Yvette! I told myself. Like that would do any good.
By the time I put the tube of lipstick back in my purse, I was as wet and ready as I've ever been in my life.
And then, as I left the ladies' room to make a bee-line to the valet, he approached me. I nearly fainted as he came up and said, "Hope I didn't embarrass you back there."
"No." I smiled at him, ran my fingers through my hair. "My friend did. We were very lucky you came along."
