When she awoke on Monday morning, Gerrie still felt uncomfortable about her actions on Saturday night. She looked at her still-sleeping husband and thought again about the exquisite feelings Chima had awoken in her. Emotions that had been so strong she had howled dirty obscenities like an wanton slut. She couldn't believe she had screened out like that, and even yelled she wanted his baby.
All of the previous day, she and Brett had been a little hesitant with one another. So she made a vow to herself that she would keep all thoughts about this evening's illicit encounter from her mind, scared that if she didn't, Brett would see her enthusiasm.
Her worries were soon forgotten, as when Brett woke, he rolled over and wrapped her lovingly in his arms. She wanted to make love, craving his attention to prove he still loved her. But he held her tight, reminding her they needed to wait until that evening. They showered together before going to breakfast, and although he let her play with his cock in the shower, he didn't relent and look after her carnal needs.
After breakfast, Brett insisted they did some more sightseeing around New Orleans. They stopped at the tour desk and booked the Whitney Plantation Tour, which would take up much of the day, as Brett added a swamp tour at the end. When they planned their trip, he mentioned that photographing some alligators was top of his bucket list.
It was great for them to get away and have plenty to do. It took their minds off what might happen later in the day, and they relaxed, laughed and joked together.
Lunch was traditional New Orleans fare, with mint juleps to wash it all down. Gerrie was not a great drinker; more than one glass of anything quickly went to her head and made her quite silly. At the end of the tour, he insisted they stop at Pat O'Brian's bar for a Hurricane cocktail. So when they returned to their hotel around 4:30, Gerrie was quite tipsy.
The message light blinked on the phone when they returned to their room. Bret picked it up and listened. Then put the phone down and said it was Chima. They were not on that night, as Tyrell had to cover for another band's sick drummer. But he promised they would make it the following night, come hell or high water.
Gerrie couldn't stop herself, she was too slow to turn away from Brett, and he caught the crestfallen look on her face. But he just laughed, "Don't worry, I'm just as disappointed as you. We'll go down the bar, and you can tease some men, and we'll see what happens."
"I can't do that. We said this fling with Chima was to be a one-off. Now you want me to go and pick up another man."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But we may never get this chance again. So let us play things by ear and go down to the bar and have fun."
"What if they cancel tomorrow night? We return home on Wednesday."
"Let's just do the bar tonight and enjoy ourselves. What will be will be."
Gerrie knew she should put up more of a fight; at his suggestion that she flirt in the bar, but the alcohol they had consumed that day had blurred her objections. They lay and talked on the bed, then around 6:00, showered and got dressed.
She picked out her black cocktail dress again and checked it thoroughly to make sure there was no mess on it from the night before. And as the hem was so short, she chose her black teddy to wear under it instead of the tiny thong. Knowing that if she sat on the bar stool again, men would likely get glimpses of what she was wearing under the dress.
Again as they walked to dinner, couples stopped and gawked at her. But Gerrie just held her shoulders back and walked through the lobby as if oblivious to the slutty image she was projecting.
Dinner was a blur; people stared, and the waiter was very obvious in his attempts to look under her short hemline. But although she was embarrassed by this unwanted attention. it did get her hot and bothered.
After dinner, Brett took her elbow and walked to the cocktail lounge. And at the entry, when he turned to the left, she carried on to the bar, even though she was screaming inside to escape back to their room. The hazy buzz of the alcohol she had consumed that day was just enough to subdue her instinct to run.
Gerrie sat on the same stool she had two nights before. Then cringed at the thought there may be men in the bar that had watched her two nights earlier. She glanced around and noted the lounge was less busy than it had been on Saturday night. And instead of mostly couples, there were many more single men this evening.
She saw Brett sitting over in a cubical near where he had sat two nights before. This time she was doubly nervous; the other time she had sat here, it was all planned. But this time, she had no idea what might happen, if anything.
She had sobered up a little after their dinner; the food and the water she had downed had soaked up some of the alcohol she had consumed that day. She glanced at Brett and saw that he had the video camera partially disguised by his jacket again. She wondered how good his filming would be tonight, as he had to be a little drunk still, having consumed much more than her.
The barman came and asked if she wanted a drink. Thankfully it was a different barman, and she ordered a Mai Tai, knowing it would be strong and give her Dutch courage. As she waited, she took a more studied look at the men near her.
There was a young man a few seats away who hardly looked old enough to be in the bar. He smiled at her, then turned his attention back to his drink.
Then she was interrupted by an older guy that asked to buy her a drink. Gerrie declined, saying she was waiting for someone. But it only took minutes before another guy plucked up the courage to approach her. Over the next hour, five different men offered to buy her a drink. She slowly calmed down as she listened to their feeble pickup lines. By the third one, she was relaxed and relishing the power she felt at their attention. She fell into her role-play easily, teasing them with sexual innuendos and absently opening her legs or bending over a little to show off her ample cleavage.
But none did anything for her; they were all businessmen or travelling salesmen with wedding rings on their fingers, and she sent them on their way. She looked around the bar to see if any eligible black men were in the place. But only saw two in the bar, and both were with women who appeared to be their wives.
She was about to call it quits and move over to join Brett in the booth when the young man stood and came over. He spoke to her, but at first, she didn't realise he was talking to her, as she couldn't believe someone so young would try and pick her up.
However, he spoke again, "Can I sit with you a talk for a bit? I've seen you turning some men away, but I don't mean to pick you up. Just sit with someone and talk, as my friends have not turned up."
Thinking it was just another pickup line, Gerrie was about to shoo him away. But he looked so sincere and innocent that she asked, "What has happened to your friends?"
"I don't know," he replied. "They were meant to meet me here nearly an hour ago. I feel stupid sitting here alone, and I had a man trying to pick me up before. So I thought that if we sat and talked for a bit, the guys in the bar would leave us both alone."
"OK, I was about to leave, but I'll sit with you briefly. My name is Geraldine."
"I'm Ethan." He held out his hand.
She shook his hand, then asked, "You had better tell me why you are here and why I should believe you are not just another jerk trying to entice me to his room."
