Another Saturday night back at the same place. The difference is that this week I'm alone. I haven't been here since he dumped me 3 weeks ago. I sit at the bar tonight and order a margarita. I look longingly at the booth we shared not so long ago. It's fun to see the regulars who I have spent so much time with over the past few months. We chat and dance and have a pretty great time...for awhile.
And then he walks in. Ugh. He certainly thinks he's God's gift to women. But maybe I'm just cynical being on the backside of our relationship. Oh, of course at first I was as enamoured as anyone was. I loved the jealous looks and the pouty girls who saw me with him. I never dreamed this was all part of his norm. A new girl every few months, a new club to show her off and then, when boredom sets in, "It's just not working baby" and he's off to his next conquest. Oh well.
I watch him make his rounds. He says hi to all the regulars and then he spots her. She is cute, not beautiful, but then again that's not who he goes for. He likes them to be pretty, but shy and a little insecure. He makes his way over and begins his routine. He talks, tells her a few jokes, buys her a drink and then they head out to the dance floor. I am fascinated and can't seem to keep my eyes off of them. This is exactly how things started with us. A few drinks, some dancing and then back to his place for magnificent sex.
After about an hour of dancing, which consisted of a lot of gyrating and groping, they head to the dark side of the club. From my perch at the bar, I can see him lead her to our old booth. Once there he orders another round of drinks and slowly begins his advance. He kisses her neck, her cheeks, along her jaw to her lips. My body begins to ache watching them. I can see her responding the way I did so many times. I can tell by the way that she shifts that his hand has begun to wander. I toy with the idea of confronting him, but oddly can feel myself getting aroused at the thought of him with her. I leave the bar and head to a booth where I'm more concealed.
I watch them kissing. His hands in her hair, holding her close, controlling her moves, her hands around his neck, massaging his broad shoulders. I see his hand drop below the table again. She catches her breath and looks around nervously to see if anyone is watching. I avert my eyes just in time. I see her head roll back and her eyes close, her face a picture of ecstasy. I know he has just slid his well-trained fingers across her labia and over her bud. I find my fingers following the same course. Surprisingly, I feel moisture cross my fingers. Watching them has made me wet. I slide my lacy panties aside and dip a finger in between my lips. Very wet.