She looks up in disgust. Here the glasses bang together in cheers. Behind the bar her boyfriend bangs them together in frustration as he puts them in the sink. She shoots Alex that look. He feels the electricity of it run through him.
"Well," she rubs under her ear. "I can't. My jaw hurts."
Maynard takes the cherry stem and puts it in his mouth. He works it trying to tie it. He can do it. He is a good kisser. He can make women cum when he licks their pussies.
She imagines his tongue swirling around her clit. She imagines he says, "Bend over!" After drinking, Erika touches people when she talks. A supple hand on the forearm, a brush on the thigh, a pound on the chest for a funny joke. She has just brushed his shoulder as they are all cheers and smiles-the cherry stem is tied-the glasses bang together so roughly that one shatters. She blinks, plays with her hair, leaves her lips slightly open. The waitress comes over and sweeps up the shattered glass. She apologizes, her arms crossed and her cleavage strutting the blouse that has become her personal catwalk.
She dreams when she's drunk. A big penis slapping her in the whore face. She loves being submissive when she's drunk. Letting her holes get dominated.
Alex is behind the bar. The rest of them sit in a dim nook. He can barely see them. Erika brushes up against an arm, then slaps a thigh. She takes a long drag from her cigarette and stuffs the butt into an ashtray on the table. She, the bartender's girlfriend's, has made up her big face. Her mascara'd eyes scan the room. The bartender's girl's cleavage is out and big and heaving. Her eyes go a bit swirly and her nostrils open wide. When he cums on her face, he calls her the cum-dragon. She sits with her boyfriend's friends. Alex sees his girl taking one guy's phone. She types something. He leans in and whispers something in her ear. She's a little drunk and she wants to just hang around.
It's fun, she thinks. It's fun to flirt. The alcohol has her a little wet. To men, being friendly is flirting. To her, it's safe to be friendly with her boyfriend's friends. She wants to hold a hand, a neck-even a dick. She is chatting with this jar-head of a guy, smiling. One of Alex's friends. Alex is stuck pouring beer, shaking cocktails. She sips her vodka and energy drink. She is caffeinated and energized by this weird chemical mix. Her sensuality bulges out and hangs down. They drink and cheers, after staring at Erika's chest wry smiles cross their faces.
The whole bar is popping, hopping - there are single women and single men and the feel is thick and creamy as fondue chocolate. The music is loud. It is good. Erika's low cut tank top reveals her breasts-like proud weightlifters in the mirror, obsessively looking at themselves in the reflection, proud others around the room gawk. They are good tits: big and round. Her tits alone are proud to make her boyfriend jealous that others are ogling. Her throat goes a little dry. Her heart is beating slow yet heavy behind her bosom. She takes her boyfriend's friend's hand and pushes it between her legs. No one can see it. After a quick moment she stands up and walks to the bar.
Her boyfriend sends her a text, "i need to work and your distracting me. Didn't you say you had to go home." she writes back. "i am having fun." Alex's friend, a tall guy with big bushy personality, also joins her at the bar. He puts his hand around her waist. She wants attention, and Alex won't give it. He probably has someone else coming and for this she wants to make him pay. "I want to have fun." She puts her arms around his best friend Maynard.
"Let's have another drink," Maynard says. "Put one of her cocktails on my tab, buddy."
"I think she should go home."
"One more," Erika says. "Then Maynard can take me to a cab."
In the nook, they talk quietly. Maynard's friend, Koichiro, just watches. With lots of clinking glasses, they drain their drinks quickly. This is a cosmopolitan hotspot with people from different countries. People with money who have lived their lives by their own rules, people who are rarely denied anything. Erika looks at her empty glass, "well, I guess that's it for me. I'm done."
"Going home?"
"Yes, there's nothing more for me to do here."
