"I love the way you think," she said. "Consider this a down payment."
"Curses!" I fake moaned.
She got out and walked to the bar, swinging her hips a little, knowing I was enjoying the view. Oh yeah, I thought, the right street corner, she'd definitely have them lining up. After she vanished through the door, I adjusted my pants and followed her.
It was loud inside the bar, someone had been cranking up the jukebox. Disappointingly, it was emptier than last time. I was surprised, given the cars in the parking lot. Still, plenty of seats. Kayley was sitting up at the bar on the left side, among empty seats on either side of it. There were a couple of men at the other end of it, but they looked like regulars.
She glanced casually towards the door as I walked in, tracking me without seeming to really pay attention. I didn't hide it, when I checked her out. A woman like that? It would have been weird if I hadn't looked. This time, I chose a spot nearer the hallway to the washrooms. If anything went wrong, I wanted to be able to charge in quickly.
She nodded at nothing in particular, and swivelled her seat, facing the opposite direction, making sure I had a good view of her legs, perched and crossed on the bar stool.
Impulsively, I walked up to the bar myself, leaning on it, waiting for the bartender to come over. I looked directly at her, watching as she took out her compact to open the small mirror, and started touching up her lipstick. As she pursed her lips, I knew every man in the bar was watching those lips, dreaming of them wrapped around their cocks.
I had a sudden flash, Kayley on her knees, sucking cock after cock as men lined up. Suddenly, my cock which had subsided to a pleasant fullness, was rock hard. I put one foot up on the bar rail.
"Nice night," I said, smiling at her.
"Hmm?" she replied, tone distracted and dismissive, carefully not paying attention.
"I said 'nice night,'" I repeated more loudly.
Her eyes lifted from the mirror, looking me up and down, weighing and judging in a split second, and clearly finding me wanting. Her eyes drifted back to the mirror.
"I suppose," she replied, noncommittally.
The bartender came by, I ordered my beer. He started filling a glass.
"Are you here alone?" I asked, playing it eager and a little insecure. "Can I buy you a drink? Would you like some company?"
She responded with a bolder stare, no less dismissive.
"Sorry," she said, her tone flat. "I'm waiting for someone."
She turned slightly, her body language very clear. 'Fuck off creep.'
Shot down hard! Even the bartender winced. I knew it was all acting and role play, but it still stung. But it was also weirdly exciting. A part of me wanted to push a little further, to provoke a more blatant rejection.
"Well," I said, helplessly. But she was ignoring me.
I took my beer and went back to my seat, tail between my legs, noticing a few of the patrons had watched me strike out. They wouldn't have been able to hear, but our respective body language had been very clear. I'd timidly made a half hearted play, and she'd bitch slapped me into next Tuesday.
Maybe she'd slapped me too hard. For the next fifteen minutes, no one came near her. She made a show of looking at her phone. She swivelled in her seat, eyes roving over the bar. Then she'd cross and re-cross her legs, carefully showing off her bare thighs by adjusting her skirt, which always seemed to hike up on the stool. God, she radiated sex appeal, just sitting there.
Eventually, someone came up. Some young guy in ragged jeans and long hair, with a scraggly beard. She smiled and chatted politely for a moment, then shook her head. He went away.
A few more suitors went up. She smiled at each of them, laughed once, uncrossed and re-crossed her legs for another as he tried not to stare. But each of them went away in turn, clearly turned down. But none nearly as brutally as I'd been, and with perhaps some hope to try again later.
Her gaze swept the bar, lingered on the door.
She was waiting for Leroy. The thought sent butterflies through my stomach, I felt a little threatened. But why not, he was a known quantity, maybe the sex had been shit, but at least there was a little security there, he lacked the potential danger of a complete stranger.
I started watching the rest of the bar. Kayley was getting a lot of attention. There weren't that many women in the bar, and she was by far the hottest one. I could tell she was aware of the attention by the way she stretched her long legs, or crossed her thighs, or arched her back. All the movements were casual, but deliberately sensuous.
She finished her glass of wine, and then another. No one had come near her for at least ten minutes. She'd shot the boldest candidates down. She was working on the third glass when the guy came in.
He was below average height, I guessed, but with the stocky build that made him seem shorter. He had a plug neck and close cropped hair, clean shaven. He looked like a working guy, his clothes casual, but not sloppy. I couldn't see a wedding ring, but then I didn't have the best view.
Kayley glanced at him as he came in, and immediately lost interest. She was definitely waiting for Leroy, I thought. Again, I was unsure how I felt about it.
He definitely checked Kayley out, noting her short skirt and bare legs, her almost bare shoulders but for the spaghetti strap and the enticingly loose top. Then he glanced around the rest of the tavern. There was a brief nod, a half wave. So he wasn't a stranger, he knew people here. Not surprising. But was that good or bad? A quick adventure one on one was one thing. But other people were potentially dangerous variables.
While I was trying to assess, he looked Kayley over again, and made a bee line for the bar, stepping up almost at the spot that I'd taken, just a couple of seats over from Kayley. Close enough to open a conversation, not close enough to intrude. That bit of class put him ahead of most of her suitors this evening.
Interested, I waited to see what he would do next.
At first, Kayley ignored him, and he ignored her. Instead, he waited for the bartender to come up to take his order. Then once the bartender was pouring, he glanced over at Kayley and said something. I couldn't make out what he said, but he had none of the nervousness I'd pretended.
She looked up and replied. He said something else, and she smiled and replied again. He laughed, and leaned one elbow casually, as he spoke. She nodded and then shrugged. They exchanged back and forth. The mug of beer appeared on the bar in front of him, and he picked it up.
Kayley leaned forward to touch the bar stool next to hers. He nodded, smiling pleasantly, and came over. She pretended to shift on her stool to make room for him, allowing her knees to brush his. As he took his stool, she pivoted towards him, giving him her full attention.
Interesting, I thought. Why him? He didn't seem particularly her type. But then, when we played our games before, she was open to flirting with all sorts of men. But why him and not one of the others? Had she given up hoping for Leroy? Was it the third glass of wine steadying her nerves and loosening her inhibitions? Or was it that she hadn't been hit on for at least ten or fifteen minutes and had decided time was running out.
I settled back to casually watch them and enjoy the show. I'd seen her flirt before, but it was always fascinating. This time, she engaged with friendly neutrality, nodding politely, and responding carefully. But then she flashed a radiant smile. By steps the conversation grew more animated. He said something, she laughed. Emboldened, he came up with another witty remark, and this time they both laughed.
She touched his hand a moment, while telling him some story. Then she leaned forward while talking. For a moment, his gaze dipped to her cleavage, and then back to her face. But that was okay, she'd meant for him to peek. She shifted on her bar stool, swivelling ever so slightly, to draw his attention to her bare legs.
None of it was obvious, or crude. The conversation was pleasant, even enjoyable, her movements were casual, and he was careful not to be caught looking. Kayley turned her body, to take a long drink of her fourth glass of wine, allowing him to gaze at her body, appreciate the swell of her breast, the way her top lifted, exposing a flash of bare skin just above her shirt. Her legs swung a little, unself consciously, and from the way he glanced down, and the way the skirt rode up, I was sure he'd gotten a glimpse of panties.
She put the glass down half way, making some remark, and then turned to take another drink, letting his eyes slide over her body. Fuck, I could see her nipples poking at the fabric from here, and her skirt was so short and hiked so high on the stool I was absolutely certain that he'd glimpsed her panties a few times already.
But he wasn't really doing anything. He smiled continually, a nice easygoing grin, completely unforced. He leaned towards her, he whispered into her ear to make her laugh, and touched her arm.
But I wanted him to accidentally lay a hand on her thigh, and her legs to part. I wanted to see his touch on her bare shoulder, or him lean forward so that her nipple brushed his arm or even carefully try to cop a feel. Hell, I wanted him to even just be more obvious with his looking, not to be blatant, but let her see him appreciating her breasts or panties.
This wasn't more than the casual flirting with a stranger we usually enjoyed.
But we'd come here for more. She had come here for more. This was her adventure, after all. Did she have cold feet? They seemed to be getting along. Was she waiting for him to make the first move?
She'd told me I was her support, that she couldn't have done it, wasn't brave enough to do it without me. Was that it? Did she need my approval? My encouragement? I didn't want to push her into it, not if this was something she didn't really want. But what if she did want it, and she needed me for that little bit of extra strength to take the step?
After another ten or fifteen minutes of modest flirting, I decided to act. I pulled out my phone and texted.
Her phone buzz, she excused herself, pulled it out of her purse, and
"Go 4 it."
She smiled at the phone. I could see her excusing herself from her conversation for a moment. He nodded pleasantly and patiently.
"Is that a dare?" she texted.
