This is a story about an unlikely pair of punters with a strange hobby of sorts. Looking for love in all the wrong places, as the song says! Enjoy.
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Everyone should have a hobby. My name is Ian Preston and I was never one for collecting stamps coins or trading cards. I played sports as a kid and enjoyed playing them but I wasn't a fanatic.
When puberty hit I discovered that I had been gifted with some pretty good genes. I grew tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. The tiniest amount of time in the gym sculpted my already good physique into a cut and buff specimen. That ain't bragging, it's just true!
I had always been popular with the girls. They liked the buff body. I dated a lot but didn't lose my virginity till I was eighteen, and she was a twenty-eight year old woman. She introduced me to what would become my hobby. I became a cocksman, a pussy-hound, call it what you will. I lived for weekend hookups.
The twenty-eight year old taught me the basics, how to dress, how to walk, talk and act to attract women. She also taught me how to please a woman. She was a harsh judge but she was a great teacher. In the end, she proclaimed me fit for service and she left me to make my own way.
There are a few good bars and clubs in this city. Each was crowded every weekend with people out looking for a good time. I would usually case two in an evening. Sometimes you'd get lucky and find the right person at the first one.
The real gold mine is finding a table full of girls' night out "woo hoo" girls. When you find one of those you just monitor the liquor consumption and pick one from the herd. You want them drunk enough to lose their inhibitions but not drunk enough to hurl all over your new designer shoes. This has been a winning formula for years.
I am now in my mid-twenties, that's six years of cruising the clubs. Some friends think I should hang up on my hobby and settle down. Others say I should go pro and become a gigolo. It was at the beginning of my seventh year that things changed.
Sitting in my favorite club a woman caught my eye. She was tall, nearly six foot. Her long brown hair was lustrous with waves a guy could surf on. Her face couldn't be described as classically beautiful. She looked okay, certainly worth a second look but it wasn't her looks so much as it was her attitude. She looked supremely confident. She had a nice figure, and the clothes she wore complimented that figure.
She wasn't part of a group outing, she looked to be here solo. I watched her looking over the crowd. I recognized the behaviour, it was much like my own. She saw a group of men who sat together, they looked like they were celebrating after a game of some kind. She eventually managed to bump into one of the guys as she was passing his chair. She apologized to him, chatted with him for a few minutes then they went to the dance floor. After a few dances and a few more drinks, they left the bar together.
My first impression was that she must be a hooker. I had seen many of them in action but I had never seen this one. I asked one of the working girls I was friends with if she knew who it was. She said that she wasn't a professional just a gifted amateur like myself.
I managed to find a lovely lady who was out on her first girls' night out. She was a cougar, I didn't really care, she was ripe and ready. It was a good night.
The following evening I visited a different club and I saw this same woman. She wore another designer outfit and looked to be on the hunt. I walked by her and gave her steady eye contact, basically willing her to look at me. She did.
"Hello."
She smiled and nodded at me.
"Are you sitting at a table near here?"
She shook her head.
"Would you like to dance?"
"Sure," she said and we walked to the dance floor.
"I saw you at the club last night. Do you do this often?"
She looked at me warily.
"You were there last night and you're here tonight. Should I be worried that I have a stalker?" she asked.
"No, One of the working girls at last night's club told me you were a gifted amateur. I'm the same as you. This is a sport for me."
"Me too, it's fun. I can have a different man any night I want. Of course, it's different for you guys."
"The playing field is certainly not level, that's for sure. I do alright though."
"I can see why, you're a very handsome man. What's your name?"
"Ian Preston, what's yours?
"Fran Asher"
"Pleased to meet you, Fran. You must be fairly recent to the city, I would have noticed you."
"Yes, only a few months. I spent a lot of time in the wrong bars and clubs at first."
"How was your date last night? He looked to be pretty eager."
"He nearly fucked me in the back seat during dress our Uber ride! He was pretty good in the sack the second time around. He came far too fast the first time. How did you do?"
"Nice cougar, really aggressive for her age. Very fit and eager."
"So can I ask why you're wasting time with me, Ian?"
"I'm not, I'm having a wonderful time dancing and talking to a lovely woman who I just met."
"Flattery, does that often work for you?"
"It's a good tool but I would never use it on you Fran. I'm not on the hunt tonight. I saw you last night and I got curious about you. Finding you here tonight was a coincidence. I just thought I should introduce myself."
"So you're not trying to bed me tonight then?"
"No, not tonight at least," I smiled.
"Good, you're a little unnerving. You're handsome, debonair, glib, and a damn fine dancer. You might be way out of my league."
"I see you are no stranger to flattery either."
"I'm dead serious you're way out of my league But thanks for the dance. I hope to see you around."
"Thanks, Fran, see you later."
I stayed for an hour longer and saw her walk out with another conquest. I couldn't help but think he was a very lucky guy.
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The following weekend I caught up with Fran at a different club.
"You see, Ian, the trick is to make the guy feel like he is the one who picked you up!"
"The game is a little different from the male perspective."
"Yeah, but you make it look easy Ian."
"How was that last guy, the one you left with Saturday night?"
"Pathetic, he was full of booze bravado. When it came to go time he couldn't get his tiny penis to work. We had a bit of oral but even with my skills I couldn't raise the dead."
"Why'd you choose him?"
"I thought about that all week. I think I was intimidated by you. I set my sights lower that night."
"Fran, never be intimidated by me. I'm just like you, out to have a good time."
"I am having a good time tonight and I haven't even chosen my playmate for the evening yet! Speaking of which I had better start scouting."
"Good hunting Fran!"
Intimidated by me? That's a first. I liked talking with Fran. A sport like this rarely breeds friends and I thought Fran would make a good friend.
Once again she singled out an older man this time. His hair was getting thin and he had a lot of grey in his beard. She danced with him. At first, it seemed quite tame but I could see the way Fran opened her body to him, fitting her shape into his. His hands wandered over her back to rest on her butt. By the third dance, she was caressing the front of his pants. They walked out of the club together. There was a noticeable bulge in the front of the guy's pants. I guessed this guy wouldn't have any problems tonight.
I decided that I wasn't going to hunt tonight. My heart just wasn't in it.
Fran called me midweek asking if she could buy me a coffee. She had something she wanted to run by me.
