I approach a seedy bar on the north side of town. I have no idea why I am here save for the fact that my Sir has bade me come here on his order, and I don't question it. I am uncomfortable at the way I am dressed, I've been working out for a while now and have shaped up a bit. I can't believe that I am wearing this tight black dress. I hope he likes it.
I go inside and scan the faces for my Sir but he is not here. Cursing inwardly, I try to ignore the glances from the guys in the bar. I try not to notice that there doesn't seem to be another woman in sight, except the bartender. Fuck. I glance at my phone but it doesn't say that I have missed any calls.
To my right is a Mexican guy who is not even trying to be sly about staring at me. I give him a little half smile and turn to the bar and order a tequila sunrise, my drink of choice of late. Sir says that White Russians have too much fat in them.
Twenty minutes later I am still waiting and my nerves are almost shot. I wish I had a cigarette, but Sir has put a stop to that as well. Damnit. I am getting tired of the guys walking back and forth in front of me looking down the front of my dress. My breasts are pushed up high and look great, at least they will to Sir, but---
My train of thought is interrupted by the door to the bar opening. "Finally," I think with relief, it's him. But when I turn to look it is no one I know. Well, no one I know yet. I would love to know this guy - and his entourage. There are 3 guys, the guy in front dressed in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. The other two are taller, one has long hair tied back in a ponytail, the other has shorter hair, but it is dark and glossy like I love.
For a fleeting moment I wonder if my Sir has set this all up. He knows that Mexican guys are my drugs of choice, but hasn't given me leave to play with anyone else. The tall guy in back with the long hair eyes me up and down and walks to the bar, then sits in front of me. He smiles charmingly and I can't help but smile back. "Hey baby", he says.