Christy shifted nervously in her chair and sipped on her drink as she watched the action on the dance floor as the music pounded. She definitely felt out of her element at JB's, a dark nightclub known as the local pickup joint/meat market catering to middle aged singles and probably a few who weren't single.
She wasn't really a club girl back in her younger days, and certainly not now as she was recently divorced and in her mid 40s. But this is where several of her close friends as well as a couple of coworkers decided to take her to cheer her up upon the finalization of a long and contentious divorce.
Despite feeling like a fish out of water, she obliged their well-meaning offer and went along, although she knew part of the choice was because that's where they wanted to be as evidenced by her friend, Shelly, who had already danced with at least a half-dozen guys, some at the same time, and a young coworker, Leslie, who had left the table for who knows where, but she last saw feverishly making out with some random guy who definitely was not her fiance across from her at the large table where the group was sat.
Her ex's philandering ways and alcohol problem had just become too much and she realized would never change, so they'd been separated for a year and a half before the divorce was finally signed and over. And it had been two years since there had been any sexual activity between them at all. Early on in the separation phase, she had reached out to Jeff, an old boyfriend from her college days who was also divorced and was by far the best sex she'd ever had. She did so not to rekindle an old flame since that was the last thing she wanted, but to perhaps exact some sexual revenge, at least in her mind, by reconnecting sexually with the best lover she'd ever had.
The idea turned out to be a bad one since the years had not been kind to Jeff as he'd gained quite a bit of weight, nor had they been kind to his former sexual prowess and stamina, which had waned tremendously over the 20-plus years since they were last together. The one-time meetup they'd arranged at a downtown hotel was awkward, short, and completely unfulfilling at least for her and nothing like the erotic, primal marathon sessions of their youth. It was a mistake that was only magnified by the lack of any semblance of good sex.
So here Christy sat, divorced, mid 40s, and, although her friends were constantly telling her how gorgeous she was with her shoulder length natural blonde hair, large seemingly ageless breasts and long legs, self-conscious about her mom bod that just came naturally with age and having two children who were now grown.
Her only sexual activity over the last year and a half had been a torrid affair with her vibrator and a faceless, but tall, muscular, well-hung, giving, yet fictitious lover she'd dubbed Rick. Rick was probably the same or similar fantasy most women dream about. Rick's imagined yet unbelievable sexual skills and incredible attentiveness combined with her trusty vibrator had brought her whatever sexual satisfaction they were able, and while less than the real thing, something she had grown to enjoy.
Chatting with her friend, Kim, and having a difficult time hearing each other over the loud music she noticed someone approaching from her left. She was afraid what was about to happen and tried her best to ignore whoever it was. She quickly heard, "Hey, babe, wanna dance?" "No, thanks," Christy quipped without hesitation. "Aw, c'mon," the guy insisted. "I'll tell you what, if I'm here in an hour, then come back by and then maybe," Christy replied knowing that she had already mentally begun planning her exit strategy and would be long gone by then. "Will do, babe," the short, stocky man replied with a smirk as he turned and bounded away.
"Well, he was kinda cute," Kim said with a wry smile. "I don't think so," Christy responded with a giggle, shaking her head. "Well, he did look Italian," Kim continued, "and you know what they say about Italian guys, really big penises!" "Umm, remember Tommy Romano?" Christie said referring to an old boyfriend of Kim's who, by her accounts, was quite lacking in the size department." "Touche," Kim replied with a laugh. "Plus," Christy added, "did you see that guy's open collar and gold chain? It's like he time traveled here from 1975."
They both burst out laughing after which Christy began to mindlessly survey the room while trying to plan her escape from an environment she was not comfortable in and no longer wanted to be. She had already begun to think about using her vibrator while being ravaged every which way by her imaginary lover, Rick.
Just before telling Kim she was going to head home, Christy's attention was diverted to a gorgeous hunk sitting broadside to her at a high-top table on the other side of the bar, easily the most desirable and sexy man in the place, tall, long wavy brown hair, gorgeous profile, and an incredibly chiseled and muscular physique that was only accentuated by his outfit of jeans, boots and a skin-tight t-shirt.
She discreetly stared in awe as he sipped beer from his mug and chatted with the others at his table as her mind began to wander and visualize what it would be like to be with such a fantastic creature. Images began to run through her head going from one to another as if she was watching her own personal sex tape; her writhing in pleasure with his head between her legs feasting on her dripping pussy with her fingers running through his long dark mane; his warm mouth and tongue teasing her erect nipples; her long legs wrapped around his tan muscular back as he slowly grinded deep inside her while engaged in a deep open-mouthed kiss; her on all fours, his hands firmly on her hips pounding her from behind with deep, powerful, almost violent thrusts and the sound of their bodies slamming together, his grunts, and her screams of orgasmic bliss.
