After being stuck inside for months due to the pandemic, we're primed and ready for a night out on the town to let off some steam. That morning before leaving for work, I tell you to meet me at the bar after work and to dress sexy, as I want to make this a night to remember. You smile deviously and communicate your approval.
At the end of the day, I'm running a little late, actually about twenty-five minutes late, and arrive at the bar to find that you've started without me. Without even having to try, I can see and hear you laughing joyously and just carrying on in general. You're having what appears to be a great time without me. Perched high up on a bar stool, you're surrounded by a group of young men who are all clearly competing for your attention. You, a woman in her early forties, are completely surrounded by six handsome, tall and athletic college guys who are under the age of twenty-two.
These guys are simply out on the Friday night prowl, looking to get lucky. As it's still quite early, they are just beginning to get primed and are clearly enjoying your sexy demeanour, dazzling smile, quick wit, flirtatious nature and infectious energy.
You're perched on top of a high barstool, with your long sexy legs on complete display for anyone who happens to want to look. The extremely short skirt that you've chosen wasn't the best decision as you continuously try to wrestle it into a static position, which is proving to be impossible with the height and angle of your stool.
I proceed into the bar and walk right past you as you smile at me, knowing what I'm about to do. I continue walking and find myself a spot to sit at the end of the bar, so I can keep a close eye on you and your new-found "friends". Amongst the physical contact, laughing and smiling, the touches are beginning to last a little longer than necessary with physical contact becoming more and more apparent as the night wears on.
After several drinks and rounds of shots, the boys have managed to get you quite drunk and their hands have now started groping you in places that you wouldn't normally permit while sober. You seem to be enjoying all this extra attention immensely. You occasionally look toward me and smile widely, letting me know that you're also getting off on teasing me without your fan club knowing. The way you continually squirm on the stool, I know that your panties must be a sticky mess at this point and that you're going to need some release soon.
I've seen enough and take my half-full Corona and make my way toward the restrooms. Once at the entrance, I wait for a while and then text you. I instruct you to meet me there right away.