-3-
Alyss tried to leave. She wanted to leave. Knowing it was the best thing to do.
But she didn't. She just sat there, glancing at Regina and that man as the two spoke, holding the third drink since leaving the bathroom an hour before in her hand, sitting comfortably in one of the high back, almost recliner like chairs. At least she did not pay for any of them. Billy had done that.
He sat across from her in a similar style chair. And as luck would have it, his back towards Regina and the man. This gave Alyss an excuse to look that way, over Billy's shoulder, without anyone thinking she was some voyeur, vicariously carrying on a conversation with that man through Regina, paying little attention to Billy as he spoke.
"Like I was saying," Billy said, sipping his beer, "nice to see you hear this late in the evening. We don't get a chance to chat much outside work."
Alyss watched as the man gently caressed his face, nodding, looking straight at Regina.
No ring. His hands are small, but not overly so...
She imagined his hand upon her face, using his pointer finger to stroke her cheek, as he now did to his own.
"So what do you usually do after work?" Billy asked.
Alyss looked at him and smiled. "After what?"
Billy leaned forward. "What do you like to do when not working. I mean, hobbies? Coming here?"
"Oh." Alyss took a sip. "I ahβ enjoy reading. As much as we have all gone digital there's nothing like curling up with a good book."
He deals with books
, she thought, glancing back at him. She crossed her legs and ever so subtly, mover her hips side to side, that soft quiver returning to her just below her belly button.
Curling up with him. What would that be like.
"Books. That's great," Billy said. "I thought maybe you like to hit the gym. I mean," he took a sip of liquid courage, "you got a nice figure. I should get there..."
She glanced back at Billy and smiled as he rambled about getting in shape. Although she had a good buzz going, she realized what he was trying to do. She took another drink.
Not doing a very good job hitting on me Billy,
she wanted to say but refrained
. But at least you're sweet about it. Better than that one guy earlier. God. He thought that skin tight tee shirt he had on showing off his chest and arms was suppose to make me want to jump his bones. Pathetic.
She felt her smile disappear, looking back towards the man.
Any less pathetic than what I'm doing.
She closed her eyes and drew in a breath, then took down half her drink. Upon opening them again, she saw the man take a drink also, then pucker his lips, liking them once done.
The sight of him doing that sent a shiver down her spine. She placed her free hand on her leg and began massaging it, oblivious to Billy talking about his hobby of collecting graphic novels, and how computers are used to create them, and how she might be interested since she is a graphic designer.
She imagined his lips on her... kissing her... licking her... his lips on her kitty...
Stop it!
she commanded herself, closing her eyes and taking a drink, finishing what remained.
I just called it my kitty! I haven't used that word since high school!
There was only one thing she could think of doing right now.
"Hey Billy," she spouted, cutting him off mid sentence. "I think I better be going now. It's getting late."
Billy watched her get up. "A sureβ"
"And thank you for the drinks. You're very sweet."
"You're welcome, Alyss. Any time." He stood also.
Alyss gave him a gentle hug. Without another word she headed for the door, setting her empty glass on the bar as she passed by. Even a final look at that man was too much to bear right now. The acute buzz in her head just made things worse.
Once in the elevator, she fumbled for the 1
st
Floor button, planning on what she needed to do once on ground level.
Hail a cab... get home... bathe... shower... after I...
His image shot across her mind's eye. The sight of him licking his lips. His hands. His face.
Why do I feel this way again? Why now? Him...
The ache still radiating from her crotch grew stronger. A warm wet feeling added to this as her juices made themselves known.
The elevator gently passed the 3
rd
Floor. She leaned against the wall, facing it, propping herself up with one arm. The urge for a release became too great.
Her other hand traced along the waist of her pants, moving towards her stomach. There, over the button and zipper holding her pants up, she guided her hand under them, under her panties beneath, passing by the small clump of hair, finally reaching her lips.