It was a mid summer night dream or so I thought. Actually it was closer to the Autumnal equinox and I was feeling pretty low. I had fallen in love with the right girl, only it was the wrong time. Apparently too much too little too late, and in trying to get her back I only succeeded in pushing her further away. So I did what any guy in my position would do... I went out to get drunk.
I went to a local dive bar to drown my heart in continuous twelve-ounce drafts. As the night went on I began to like I was being watched. The bar was crowded so I just chalked it up to inebriated paranoia, until I caught a glimpse of a familiar calf peeking out from a corner table. I followed the calf up to a thigh topped by a very short skirt. I watched closely as the owner of the gorgeous limbs crossed her legs slowly. I had to blink. Was she not wearing underwear? I looked around to see if any one else saw, or if it was just me. I tried to turn away, but a force greater than my own will compelled me. Lust.
It was "her" alright. She was wearing an all too familiar black skirt and red top. She wasn't looking my way but I knew she knew I was here. I tried to turn away, but I kept finding myself looking in her direction. She turned to face me and leaned over to scratch her ankle. I caught a glimpse of her breast. They weren't large. She wasn't even what you would consider ample, B-cup at best, but they were perfect. with Large nipples. Pierced.
A sparkle reflected off of the surgical steel of one of the rings. I lost concentration. I shifted in my seat. A familiar stirring in my crotch was making it hard for me to sit still. I finally looked up to her eyes. She was looking right at me. My heart skipped. I smiled. She didn't. She just stared. My smile slowly left my face. Her stare was deep. Controlling. I felt as if I was enveloped by her power. She lowered her gaze... I followed. I couldn't help myself. I found myself staring at her feet. Freshly manicured.
She had me and she knew it. Each move she made was like the stroke of an artist paintbrush. I was lost in her. She slowly stood, no, she wasn't wearing underwear. My throat dried I began to tremble. She walked to the far end of the room and stopped at a dark empty booth, tucked onto the corner. She turned and looked over her shoulder. How did she know I was watching? Her expression never changed, but I knew she wanted me to come over. I cautiously walked over to her. She watched as I approached. I attempted to sit.
"No." She said, "On the floor, at my feet. That is where you belong."
I tried half heartedly to protest and sit on the bench. She immediately went cold and turned her back to me.
"If I want to talk, you have to sit where you belonged."
Reluctantly I sat on the floor, she commanded I move closer.