Thanks to Samantha_Sherman for proofreading.
Under normal circumstances Amanda would never have found herself at a bar as divey as Holmes', but it was her friend's birthday, and this was where she wanted to go. Dim orange lights hung from the ceiling, and many of the bottles behind the bar were covered in dust. The Tuesday night clientele were almost all men, and nearly all of them were on the bad side of forty. In the ladies' room, the lone toilet was splattered with pee, and the hand soap dispenser was empty (Amanda decided she didn't have to go that bad after all). This wasn't a dive; it was a shithole.
But Kim was enamored with it. It was her 21st birthday, and for her first legal drink she wanted to go someplace, in her words, "real." (Never mind the fact that the bar at the Applebee's just down the road was also real, and presumably clean.) So, against Amanda's better judgment, they were sitting at a corner table at Holmes' among the after-work crowd. It was just the two of them--the big, girls-night outing would be that Friday with the rest of their acquaintance group.
"What're you drinking?" Amanda asked.
"Gin and tonic," Kim replied confidently. "I'm not having my 'first' drink be a White Claw," she continued when she saw the bemused look on Amanda's face.
"Gin and tonic it is."
Amanda made her way to the bar. She was dressed nicely--far too nice for this place. A blue slip dress clung to her breasts and stomach and showed off her bare back. It went well with her yellow sandals and purse. Her brown hair was in a braid. Bold, black eyebrows sat above blue eyes, and her large teeth, which in earlier years had caused so much self-consciousness, she now considered one of her best assets. Getting the bartender's attention was easy.
"Can I have a gin and tonic and a glass of your cheapest white wine, please?" she asked, leaning over the counter.
While she waited on the drinks, Amanda looked back at her friend, who was talking to a guy who had pulled a chair up to their table.
That was fast
, she thought.
And presumptuous
.
But not surprising. Kim always had boys falling over themselves trying to talk to her. She was blonde and curvy, a little chubby with a lot of boob to show off if she wanted. And tonight she did. The top she was wearing revealed so much cleavage Amanda was pretty sure the astronauts on the International Space Station could see it. Kim's permanent smile and penchant for laughter made it easy to get free drinks, and Amanda was sure this was what was going on. Neither of them were in the mood to be taken home by someone else that evening, she thought.
Booze in hand, she weaved her way back through the crowd.
"This is my friend, Mandy!" Kim chirped as she sat down. "Mandy, this is Derek. He was in my creative writing class last semester."
Derek smiled and held out his hand; she shook it. He was cute. Easily six foot, messy brown hair, about their age. A sharp nose was his most interesting feature; his deep brown eyes his prettiest. When he smiled she saw he probably hadn't ever had braces, which suited him surprisingly well.
"Hi Mandy, Kim was just telling me how you're the only one of her friends to go out on her birthday."
"Uh, yeah, well it's a school night, so we're planning something big later on in the week."
"Gotcha, gotcha. I just wanted to reintroduce myself--I don't want to intrude or anything. But when you need another round of drinks, call me over."
And he was gone.
"That's weird," Amanda said.
"A little," Kim replied. "He's here alone and just got off work. He's a student part time and stopped in on his way home. He's a good writer; I remember he wrote something really beautiful for that class. About dogs, I think. Or squirrels."
Her eyes followed Derek as he crossed the bar. Amanda realized they might be splitting up tonight after all. Kim had a type, and he was it. She was shorter than Amanda's 5'6 and loved tall guys, loved how they had to bend down to kiss her, loved how they could wrap their bodies around her's while they fucked. She loved boys, period.
Amanda sipped her wine. It was cheap alright, but it was cold and sweet and hit the spot. Once she finished it she would suggest they find another bar. Kim would no doubt refuse, saying Derek owed her a vodka cran, and that would be Amanda's opportunity to leave.
You two have fun
, she'd say.
Text me the address
. She'd go back to their dorm (it was a suite, and quite nice all things considered, but still a dorm in the mind of the college junior), have another glass of wine, read a few chapters of an Amor Towles book in lieu of her assigned readings, and call it a night around ten. It wasn't that she didn't like boys or do hookups; she was just pickier than her perky, buxom friend.
Kim was sucking down her gin and tonic.
"Hey, slow down," Amanda said, laughing. "I'm not even half done."
"Sorry, it's just really good. Here, try it."
Amanda took the straw in her mouth and sipped. For the sleaziest bar she'd ever been in, the bartender was surprisingly competent.
"So," Kim said, "what'd'ya think?"
"It's good. Strong."
"I meant Derek. I never talked to him before now, but I like him. I see him at Strange Brew sometimes and he's always writing something. I hadn't really noticed how cute he is. And I've been horny since last week--I don't know what it is, maybe stress from the midterms."
Amanda knew all about this last part. The wall between their rooms was far from thick enough to muffle the sound of her roommate's vibrator.
"Okay, well, I'm not gonna stop you. Just be safe, text me the usual info. I have a book to read anyway."
Kim's face fell. "Oh, I don't want to ruin our night."
Amanda figured it would be rude to make clear she wanted to get the hell out of the venue they were in, so she tactfully said, "don't worry about it. We'll be going out on Friday anyway. Seriously. Have some fun with your new crush."
Her wine half-finished, she got up from the table. They hugged, and Amanda headed for the exit, making a small wave to Derek as she walked by where he was sitting at the bar.
***
The door to the suite swung closed. Amanda kicked off her sandals in the entryway and went into her room, where she dropped her purse and peeled off the dress. Her firm breasts wobbled a little as the fabric moved past them. They were average size, she'd guess. Topped by dark areolas, each had the same allotment of beauty marks: two. She liked them; compared to her small ass, she felt they fit the beauty standards of the day.
Walking to the kitchen in just her white panties, she found an open bottle of wine (not quite turned, she determined, after taking a swig from it) and a clean mug, which she poured the remainder of its contents into. Barefoot on the linoleum floor, she pivoted on the balls of her feet to imaginary music.
Fuck this
, she thought,
let's get some actual music going
. Pairing her phone to the bluetooth speaker in the living area, she decided on a Massive Attack album and hit shuffle. Waves of sound poured from the small device as she located her book and settled on the couch. She sat criss-cross and hunched over, wine mug in her right hand. Her unrestrained breasts dangled, rising and falling with each breath. In this position her stomach rolled up, hiding her belly button. Pubic hair poked out of her underwear, which was thin enough she could feel the contours of the couch fabric on her crotch. Kim knew her roommate had nudist tendencies and didn't mind. It was only fair, since Amanda never said a word about the guys Kim fucked in their shared spaces.
Amanda was just immersing herself in 1930s Manhattan when her phone chimed. It was Kim:
Hey! I hate to do this but can Derek and I come back to our place rn? His roommate's home and is apparently kind of a tyrant about this stuff.
Derek's roommate may have been a dick, but in this case his ire would have made some sense: Kim wasn't usually a quiet lover. Not infrequently Amanda would be dozing off in her room when she'd be jerked awake by Kim's moaning and the slapping of flesh as she begged whoever it was this time to go harder, deeper, faster. Back when they shared a single room they had a pretty good system figured out: three nights a month each of them could bring someone back and tell the other to scram--more than that, and they'd have to find someplace else. But now that they had a larger space with more privacy, that rule had gone out the window. And Kim wasn't always good about telling Amanda when she was bringing a hookup home, especially late at night, which had led to some unexpected encounters.
Once, Amanda had gotten up to pee and, while walking through the dark living room, saw Kim and a guy on the couch going at it so hard they didn't notice her. Kim was on her back with her arms and legs wrapped around him as he fucked her. His face was pressed into her neck and she was whispering sweet nothings in his ear, no doubt urging him on. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, Amanda could see everything, and the sheer eroticism of the moment had impacted her heavily. The way Kim's ass squished into the couch and pillowed outward; how her left hand lay flat on the man's back, embracing him as if he really were her lover; the way their bodies moved downward into the cushions with every desperate thrust. Amanda had watched this for nearly a minute, then retreated slowly into her room. She masturbated that night, not just to the abject voyeurism of it all but also, to her surprise, to Kim. She had never touched herself to another woman, and had never felt any previous attraction to her roommate. But she did that night, and when she came it was with the image of Kim's soft, voluptuous body square in her mind.
