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Wearing a charcoal grey skirt and a matching jacket over a sleeveless green top, Laura Burke sat at the far end of the bar at the Royal Centennial, enjoying her whisky sour as she surveyed the crowd around her. It was typical for a late Friday afternoon, an eclectic mix of fellow travelers and local businesspeople. The midtown hotel, which dated back to the nineteen-twenties, was the forty-two-year-old lawyer's favorite place to stay whenever she was in Manhattan, both for its old-style ambience and the after-hour opportunities it usually offered.
The Boston native had come down to New York to speak at a retirement luncheon for her favorite law school professor, Joshua Keaton. With that now behind her, Laura saw no reason to rush back home, not when she could enjoy a weekend in the city and still catch a train out of Penn Station on Sunday afternoon, that would get her home in plenty of time to enjoy a good night's sleep before the start of a new week.
After all, a woman was entitled to a bit of fun now and then, and what better place than in a city where no one knows your name? Laura loved Boston and couldn't imagine living anywhere else, but as an attorney occasionally in the public eye she found it difficult sometimes get out of it. Especially in a city that was small enough to be swallowed up by the least of New York's five boroughs.
Laying her drink back down, Laura glanced down the length of the antique bar, her gaze coming to rest on the well-dressed young man who'd caught her attention when she'd first sat down. In his mid-twenties, with a thick but tightly cropped brown beard, the handsome stranger wore his suit, which Laura recognized as custom made, with a casual ease that gracefully highlighted the well-developed body beneath it.
They'd shared enough glances to establish that the exchanges hadn't been accidental. Deciding to take it further, Laura waited until she again had his attention, then flashed an inviting smile before shifting her eyes to the recently vacated stool beside her. Her meaning was clear and, after downing the remnants of his drink for a last bit of liquid courage, the young man slipped off his chair and began to move in her direction.
The crowd wasn't what it would be an hour from now, but it was still enough to slightly impede his progress. Just long enough time for Laura to glance down at her left hand, more specifically to the empty space where a wedding band used to rest. It had done so for nearly five years, although for the last half of those it had been little more than ornamentation, devoid of any deeper meaning.
Laura had first met Simon Clarke, seven years her senior, when she'd started at Braddock and Young. Laura was five years out of law school and had been working at the public defender's office. Simon had moved over from a firm that had recently dissolved. It wasn't until after they'd both been assigned to the same case, over a year later, that they became involved. After another two years, marriage had ensued.
For the first few years, it had been a good marriage. In fact, Laura would've amended that to say it had been a great marriage. Oh, their passions in the bedroom might have cooled a bit, but no more than for most couples, especially those in demanding, high stress jobs. Still, in comparing her sex life with friends, it was clear that she was laid more than they were. But then a creeping jealousy began to cause their relationship to fray at the edges. A jealousy that had its origins in the court room rather than the bedroom.
As Laura's career had progressed, it was becoming clear that, despite having half her husband's experience, Laura was twice the lawyer. A number of high-profile cases, passed down to her because they had been thought unwinnable had proven otherwise, in her hands. And while each success brought increased standing in the eyes of the senior partners, it also brought a corresponding deterioration in her marriage.
It all came to a head a year ago when, after another celebrated win, Laura had been offered a junior partnership. That was the proverbial last straw for Simon, especially since not only was there no similar offer in his future, but that the firm made it clear they only kept him on in deference to Laura.
Less than twenty-four hours after her acceptance, Simon had tendered his resignation and filed for divorce. With no children and very few shared assets, the dissolution of their union had taken no time at all. Laura hadn't even had to change her stationary, since she'd kept her maiden name for professional reasons.
Checking her appearance in the long, wall length mirror behind the bar, part of the hotel's original furnishings, Laura was pleased with what she saw. Her hair, recently cut short, was still a rich black, and her slim frame had changed relatively little since her college days when, with small firm breasts and decidedly killer legs, Laura often drew the notice of both men and women. A fortunate concurrence since, at that point in her life, she'd had an eye for both - an interest that, as was the case with most of her sorority sisters, had been left behind after graduation.
Still, that didn't mean she didn't enjoy the view every now and then, as evidenced a short while before when, while taking the lay of the land, Laura took notice of a young woman at the opposite end of the bar. Standing amidst a small group of friends, or perhaps just fervent admirers, the girl had shoulder length, strawberry blonde hair and a smile that could charm you from across the room. She wore a low sleeve red knit top, a tan skirt that extended to just above her knees and a thick light brown belt that divided the two.
Even across the distance, you could see that the top few buttons of the girl's blouse were undone, allowing a clear view of her bust. Laura had worked in her cousin's lingerie store while in high school and had learned to estimate a bust size rather well. In this case, she'd put it at as at least a 36D.
About three inches shorter than Laura's five eight, the blonde also looked like she couldn't be more than a college freshman. The drink in her hand, however, said that she had to be at least twenty-one, the Royal Centennial being quite strict about the legal drinking age, even going so far as restricting entry into the bar by minors. With her hair pulled back and held in place by a thin black headband, combined with a pair of small, dark metal framed glasses, the young woman presented an image of both beauty and intelligence.
'Ah, where were you twenty years ago?' Laura silently mused, remembering her undergraduate days when that girl would've been just her type.
The answer, that the bodacious blonde might've still been learning to walk, was not a thought Laura wanted to consider.
"Hi, I'm James," the tall young man said as he finally reached Laura. "Would you mind if I joined you?"
"Please do," Laura said with another inviting smile, again waving her hand over the empty stool, dismissing as she did any other thoughts from her mind. "I'm Laura."
As James climbed aboard, Laura caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another of whatever he'd been drinking. There was a pause as he looked to James for confirmation.
"Why don't you make it scotch this time?" he said, thinking he needed something stronger than the weak rum and coke he'd just finished off.
"Coming right up," the bartender said as he backed away.
In the brief time it took him to return with the drink, Laura afforded herself a closer look at James and was pleased with what she saw. So much so that she felt a brief flush between her legs, reminding her that it had been too long since she'd let the naughty out. Oh, she'd dated since the divorce, even shared a bed now and then, but it was only with anonymity and distance that she really felt comfortable letting go.
"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, James?" Laura said as she took a sip of her drink.
It only took about ten minutes and less than half his scotch for Laura to learn just about everything she needed to know about the handsome, and admittedly eager to please, young man. Twenty-five years old, he was a sales associate for a midtown men's clothing store that had been founded by his grandfather and still remained a family business. The last explained a lot because, while not quite as dumb as the proverbial rock, James didn't come across as much smarter than one either. Simply put, he looked good in a suit and served as a walking advertisement for the store. During their brief exchange, he'd artfully dodged the question of whether he had a girlfriend with a 'nothing serious' wave of his hand, and since Laura hadn't spotted a wedding band, or an imprint where one might have been removed, that was good enough for her.
On her end, Laura gave an encapsulated version of the truth, sharing that she was recently divorced and visiting the city on business - exactly the sort of thing a man on the make most wanted to hear. As she added a few more inconsequential details, Laura leaned forward and nonchalantly dropped her left hand down along James's right thigh, letting the tips of her fingers slide across his inseam until they brushed against his cock.
As she did so, an appreciative smile formed at the corners of her mouth as a readiness words couldn't fully convey presented itself. Not only was James exceedingly hard, but the younger man possessed an impressive length and girth.
