I’d been sitting at home for far too long, and on a whim, I decided to go out to the local club in town. While hooking up would have been nice, I was mainly looking to just get the hell out of my stuffy apartment and let loose for a while. I threw on a pair of slightly faded khakis, pulled a ribbed t-shirt on over my frame and headed out. Along the way, I placed some calls on my cell phone and got a few friends to come out and meet me at the club.
I walked in around 10:30 and already the place was rocking. Heavy dance rhythms pounded from the speakers while the strobe lights flashed across the landscape, illuminating everyone on the dance floor like a sort of live action cartoon flip book. I hit the bar for a Malibu and Coke and stood back to survey the scene. I had always known this place was a premiere meat market, but I had no idea it would be like this. It was un-fucking-believable. Everywhere you looked it was as though the top 25 percent of the gene pool had come to play. I knew that a guy like me had no chance in hell of scoring in a place like this and immediately began to feel woefully out of my league. I debated leaving before making a complete fool of myself. I was up out of my stool but before I could make a break for the door, the bartender tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned around to find another Malibu and Coke in front of me. Knowing I hadn’t asked for a refill, I looked at bartender in bewilderment.
“Compliments of the lady, “ he replied, pointing to his right.
I followed his line of sight to a booth nearby wherein sat the sexiest thing I had seen so far that night. She looked to stand no more than 5’ 7” or so. Her auburn hair came down to about her shoulders. She wore a purple silk blouse that buttoned up the front. I tipped my glass toward her in salutation and thanks. She motioned me to join her at the booth. I quickly complied
As I worked my way through the crowd, I began to get a better look at my new drinking buddy. She wore a short skirt along with black nylons, which perfectly complimented the light purple of that blouse. And those high heels on her feet had to be at least two and a half inches, if not three. From what I could make out through the din, she had her curves in all the right places. As I slid into the booth across from her, I couldn’t help but notice her rather generous cleavage exposed from the opening at the top of the blouse. Her tits had to be at least a C cup, D if I was really lucky.
She offered her hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Charlotte.”
I accepted the hand gingerly. “I’m Bruce.”
She was unbelievably nervous. Her body language screamed that this was something she had never done in her life and the excitement of the situation what making her tremble. The ice rattled in her glass has she gulped down the last of her vodka tonic.
“Are you OK,” I asked, playing on her obvious tension, “ you seem a bit on edge.”
“Well,” she replied, “it’s just that… I’ve never done that, you know? Just picked up some stranger in a club and sent him a drink.”
“First time for everything,” I replied. “If I could ask a question, why?”
