Ken was getting bored. The party, at least in his mind, had been a total waste.
He sat on the couch, looking through his drink to the light in the living room, which was full of people socializing, chatting or otherwise.
Ken had been completely and entirely unsuccessful tonight, which was very strange because he always ended up taking someone home when he went to one of Sonny's parties. It was still early, only nine, and people were still coming, but he didn't have an especially good feeling.
Then he saw Brooke, drinking a glass of wine casually on the stairs. What a gorgeous woman she is, he thought. The softest looking brown hair flowing down to her full breasts, sparkling green eyes, and just the right complexion. Textbook stuff, he called it; short nose, short forehead, pouty lips. Then of course there was her body, which her outfit didn't exactly hide. Her long tanned legs and slender upper body were draped by a beautiful white and pink dress, a spring sort of dress. He shook his head, smiling, as his eyes met hers, and he walked over.
"Didn't know you'd be here."
"You're so full of shit," he grinned. "You know full well I always come."
Brooke smiled, almost fiendishly. "Well, not tonight anyway. Usually if you don't have a girl crawling all over you by now, you split for a club."
Ken was a very attractive guy. He was tall and built, very toned. He had brown mahogany eyes that shone when he talked to good looking women and slick black hair. Tonight he was in a light blue dress shirt with khaki slacks, and had left his jacket at the door.
While they went on, Ken couldn't help but wonder how she had been married to Frank for so long. After all, they were only twenty four, and a woman like Brooke could have anyone she wanted. Especially guys better looking, smarter, and a hell of a lot less boring than Frank. He liked the guy, but he had always doubted that he had what it took to keep a vixen like Brooke satisfied.
Ken's thoughts were broken as Brooke let out a gasp.
"Shit!"
She had spilled her wine accidentally on her dress. The bright red wine spread slowly down her breasts to her stomach and she looked up at Ken, as if to say "what the hell do I do?"
Ken looked around for Megan, the hostess. "There's Meg," he told her, pointing to the kitchen. "Tell her, I'm sure she'd put this in the wash for you and give you something to wear."
"Well, isn't this going to stain?"
"Haha... probably."
"Don't laugh!" she snapped playfully. "This isn't funny!"
"Of course not," Ken chuckled.
"Well, I'll go talk to Meg," she told him. "I'll be back."
With a subtle swish of her hips Brook walked off to the kitchen to talk to Megan.
Ken stood at the foot of the stairs, watching her. Now all he could think about was Brooke. What it'd be like to have her. To be able to have sex with her every night and every morning. Just watching the stain move down over her breasts down her taut stomach....
It was starting to be more than he could take. He was thinking that maybe he should go before he said something stupid to her. Maybe he should just go home, masturbate, and call it a night. Then Brooke once again interferred with his thoughts.
"Hey!" she smiled. "You look like you're off in another world."
He grinned slightly. "Yeah, just thinking."
"Well Meg says to just go in the bathroom and wait for her. She'll give me something and wash this, see if she can get it out."
