She had done this before. Gotten hot and bothered, gone out on the hunt for a plaything in a bar. She liked to play coy with them, let them think they were picking her up. Plenty of time to let them know who was really in control later.
Ariana checked her makeup in the mirror before going into the bar. Perfect, as usual. She enjoyed the rhythmic click clack of her heels as she approached the door, enjoying the otherwise silent night. She was excited to let her hair down and just be a slut again, for one night. All work and no play...you get it.
Ariana walked in, glad to find the room moderately lit. Not bright, but she'd spent time on her look and she wanted it admired fully. She shrugged out of her coat and walked to the bar.
He saw her as soon as she walked in. Smooth milk chocolate skin that almost glowed in the dim light of the bar entrance. She wasn't his usual slim and slender type, her body was full and her curves round, but she had a distinctly feminine shape, accentuated by an incredibly sexy and self confident air. She carried herself like a supermodel, hips swinging just softly enough to make you look at them. She didn't overly accentuate her breasts the way a lot of full figured women do when they want to be sexy. Instead she was dressed conservatively. A red, tea length dress contrasting her brown skin beautifully. The way she wore it, though. It may as well have been lingerie. She was aware of her body, but not desperate for anyone else to be. He watched her sit down at the bar by herself, actually swinging her legs around the stool. She was clearly not from around here. She reminded him of the prim and proper women of the 50s and 60s. He had to meet her. He picked up his beer and walked over, taking the empty seat right next to her at the bar.
She knew she'd caught his eye as soon as she walked in. She felt his gaze on her as she chose a seat at the bar, as she swung her legs around the stool. He was openly eye fucking her, everyone in the room could see it, and she was clearly enjoying ignoring him. She was not surprised in the least to see him sit next to her at the bar. When he introduced himself she took the opportunity to turn and really give him a once over.
Patric was white, she certainly seemed to attract a type. He was average height, though broad and stocky. Clearly muscular, he must work with his hands in some way. Construction? Journeyman? She refused to let her gaze betray her interest in his tattoos. Dragons, birds, crosses, he was covered from wrist up. He even had a few on his neck. She could only speculate about where else they may be. She felt a tingle between her legs and crossed them, turning to order a glass of red wine. Once she received it she turned back to him, shaking his hand and introducing herself. Sh played it demure and sweet, amused that he clearly thought she was some naive Stepford bore. She turned up the charm and ordered a cosmo.
When Patric offered to take her home, that maybe she'd had too much to drink to get behind the while she smiled sweetly, thanked him for being so thoughtful. Almost had him. He was like a mouse, smelling the cheese in the trap, inching closer. They left, her all but draped over his shoulder, giggling. That's right little mousie. You hungry? She gave him directions to her house. Finally the trap was set. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I can put on a little coffee..." The line so old a man her father's age knew what it really meant. Patric looked at her once again. The way her eyes glittered. He sensed a predatory note to the way she asked, and accepted. Did she honestly just think he was some big dumb ape? Sure, he'd play along...
