Ethan Connor walked down Third Avenue, enjoying the late summer night. The dark-haired eighteen-year-old had finished his shift at the Woodrow Avenue Market well over an hour before but was in no hurry to rush home. He was sure the minute he walked through the door he and his father would just pick up their argument right where they left it off this afternoon.
Their disagreement had been going on for almost two weeks now, ever since the night Ethan had surprised his parents with a surprise announcement at the dinner table. Since he really wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life, he announced, it was really a waste of time for him to start college in the fall.
Surprisingly enough, his father agreed with him, at least on that part of his sudden declaration. It was his additional announcement that he was planning to make his summer job at the Supermarket permanent that Roger Connor took issue with.
If his son wanted to take a year off to find himself, that was fine. But the elder Connor would be damned if he wasted it working as a minimum wage grocery clerk. Not when the family's discount appliance business had just expanded to a third store over on the west side of town.
Since he'd been working the late shift the last two weeks, Ethan wasn't the least bit tired, despite the lateness of the hour. He'd tried calling Jimmy King, his best friend, before leaving work to see if he wanted to go to a club or something. Jimmy's mother had told him that her son had gone out to the movies with Peggy Dean.
Ethan had found it funny when Mrs. King had referred to Peggy as that nice Dean girl. It didn't take much to score with Peggy, a fact that Ethan had first hand knowledge of. He might not have a wealth of experience with girls, but Peggy had been part of that experience.
"If I know Peggy," Ethan laughed to himself, "she's in the back seat of Jimmy's car right around now, with her legs spread wide."
An image of the two of then and the memory of his own backseat adventures with Peggy brought a touch of regret to the teenager as he crossed over to Baker Street. It'd been a month since he'd even gone out on a date with anyone.
A few blocks further down, Ethan looked across the street and saw the Oasis bar. It wasn't a place he'd ever actually been in, but his cousin, Martin, had told him an interesting story about it. The twenty-one-year-old had gone to the bar one night with his older brother.
"You wouldn't believe this place," Martin had said once night when they were hanging out in Ethan's backyard. "There's all these old ladies there looking for young guys, and man oh man, are they hot to trot. There was this one redhead who came on like gangbusters. She even gave me a blow job right there in the parking lot."
If Martin Connor told him that the Sun was going to come up in the morning, Ethan would want to see it for himself. Not that he'd call his cousin a liar, but he'd learned the hard way that he had what might be generously be called an overactive imagination.
Thinking he had nothing else to do and a cashed paycheck in his pocket, Ethan decided to take a look at the infamous bar and at the very least have himself a beer. If nothing else, it would be worth it to be able to bring it up to Martin the next time he told his story.
The inside of the Oasis was pretty much like any other bar Ethan had been in, not that he'd been in too many of them either. The establishment had been built back in the 1940's and the decor hadn't really changed much since then. A fact that only seemed to make it more popular as the years went by. He walked up to the far end of the L-shaped bar and took the last seat. Scattered across the room where various two and three seat tables which gave a bit more privacy than just sitting at the bar.
Looking down and across the room at the other patrons, he did notice a few older women, two of them even talking to younger men. Yet he saw even more people the same ages conversing as well. Not exactly how Martin described it.
To hear his cousin tell it, he imagined people doing it down in the halls leading to the bathrooms. Another Martin Connor myth shot to hell.
"What'll it be, kid?" a tall bearded bartender asked as he approached from the working side of the bar and wiped the area in front of Ethan.
"Just a beer," Ethan said.
"Gonna have to see some ID," the bartender said.
"Sure, no problem," came the young man's calm reply as he pulled out his driver's license and held it up.
The bartender took what Ethan considered a long look at the ID before deciding it was real and grunting an okay. In actuality, the card, which showed him to be of legal drinking age, was as bogus as the birth date on it. It had cost him his entire first paycheck to have it made, but it hadn't failed him yet.
Ethan had finished half his drink when a forty-something red haired woman dropped into the empty seat next to him. He only gave her a glance before turning back to his beer, but had a good enough look to notice that she had a set of boobs to beat all, a rack barely held in check by a low cut black dress.
"Buy a lady a drink?" she asked, getting his attention.
Ethan turned his head back in her direction, figuring that her question gave him the right to take a better look. On more careful observation, Ethan would put her age at the far end of forty, with that red hair definitely coming out of a bottle. Her facial features were pretty nice for a woman that age, he decided, and that big bust was a major attraction.
"Well, sugar?" she asked in reference to the drink.
Ethan looked up to find the bartender standing once more opposite him, waiting to see if he was indeed going to pay for the woman's drink. Figuring he'd come this far, he nodded to the bartender who poured out another of what the lady had been drinking.
"I'm Carolyn," she said as she brought the drink to her lips.
"Ethan," he replied, lifting what was left of his beer as well. "Ethan Connor," he added, wondering as soon as he said it why he had given his full name.
"I think you're really cute, Ethan Connor," Carolyn, who hadn't bothered to volunteer her own last name, said. The slight slur in her speech gave credence to the fact that the drink in her hand was far from her first of the night. "Cute enough to just eat you all up."
"Thank you," Ethan replied automatically, not sure of how else to respond to a statement like that.
"Would you like that?" she further asked after draining her drink and wiping a drop of liquid from her lips by running her outstretched tongue across them. "Would you really like it if I just ate you up?"
Without giving Ethan a chance to answer, Carolyn leaned over far enough so that the young man could have a much clearer look down her dress. From that vantage point, he could see the edges of her dark nipples against her exposed skin, peeking out from a half-cup bra.
"I bet," she whispered into his ear as her tongue tickled it as well, "that whatever little girl you date, doesn't even let you come in her mouth."
Again without giving him an opportunity to respond, the older woman slid her hand between Ethan's legs and groped his now half hard cock. An act that almost made him jump off the seat. Something he might just have done had Carolyn not been practically sitting in his lap.
"Oh that feels nice," she said in reference to the hardness against her hand. "I bet it'd feel even nicer up inside my pussy."
Almost any guy would've had the same physical reaction to this woman given the circumstances, and Ethan was hardly going to be the exception. Yet at the same time, he was aware of the fact that in addition to arousing him, Carolyn quite frankly scared him a little too. He'd never dealt with anyone so forward or direct before.
