My son is a musician, and I was at another of his gigs. He and his band were playing a local club. There were a few ladies on the dance floor, some hugging the stage, others swaying with a guy or a girl friend. I noticed one young lady in particular. I placed her as one of my son's ex-girlfriends from high school now all grown up. As I recalled she was his age, so 24 as well, and truthfully, she was damn fine looking to me.
She was dressed in a black skirt that was short but not slutty and a pair of heels with a button up, short sleeved blue shirt out of which peeked her black lace bra. Her hair was a thick mass of black with a slight wave that framed her face and naturally drew your eyes to hers. The caramel skin of her face with only a touch of blush and red lipstick was perfect and flawless, showing off her lips and bright teeth. But her best feature was, by far, her big brown eyes. As I observed her from my seat, she looked up and caught my eye for just a moment. I flashed my eyes to the empty chair at my small table and back to her. She leaned over and said something to her friend then walked toward me.
"Hi," she said as she arrived, "is this seat taken?"
Her voice was low for a woman and just a touch throaty which revved up my motor a bit more. "I though you were sitting there." came my response which was met with a smile that lit up her face and slightly crinkled the corners of her eyes.
She looked me over as if reevaluating her initial appraisal of me and sat down. Her skirt rode up as she did and revealed the small slit on the side as well as a considerable amount of a very nice thigh.
"You are Patrick's dad, right?" she asked as she leaned forward slightly and placed one arm on the table.
"That's right, um, it's Kim as I recall," I responded.
"Very close, Kimi actually. I am impressed," she said once again smiling widely. "I am surprised you remember me. We only met a couple of times but I remember even then I found you... magnetic."
She looked back toward the stage and then toward her friend who was talking to a young man at the bar on the far side of the "dance floor". "They seem to be getting along well," I commented and Kimi looked back at me, "You don't mind if I think of you as Kim do you? Kim sounds more classy and you look more like a Kim to me."
She chuckled at my comment and leaned forward a bit more causing her shirt to strain at the buttons, "I don't mind at all, especially since you just said you think I am classy. That's what they call me at work anyway."
I laid my hand on her wrist for a moment, "Then I guess we're all set. It's Eric, in case you don't remember. It is much easier to say than Patrick's dad and makes an old man feel a bit more attractive to a young sexy woman such as yourself."
"Eric," she mused, "I like that. It is a strong, name," she continued as she turned to face me. She glances down at my hand on her wrist and places her other hand atop it and slides it down to her hand to clasp mine between both of hers. Her hands are soft, though the fingers feel strong and are tipped with stylish, well trimmed and maintained nails that meet my standard for not too damn long.
I have this thing against long nails, you see. I think they look cheap and slutty. I think the proper length of a lady's nails are barely past the tips of her fingers and Kim's were just right. I could tell that she took a lot of care with her appearance, from her nails to her outfit to her hair and makeup. Glancing up toward the stage, I noticed that the band was almost done setting up.
"You know," I said, "maybe you'd like to move around this way some so you don't have to kink your neck to watch the band." I slid my chair around a bit to make some room and pulled hers right up next to me as she stood. She slipped into the chair, incidentally scooting it even a bit closer then crossed her legs and leaned a bit against my right shoulder and rested her hand on my left hand on the table.
"Would you like a drink, Kim?" I asked as she settled in. I could smell the slight aroma of jasmine rising off her hair and it was nearly as distracting as the touch of her body along my right chest and leg.
She turned her face toward me and breathed a low, "I'd take a 7 and 7. I didn't drive tonight, so that shouldn't be a problem for me."
I could smell her breath as well as she spoke and my right hand around her back seemed to naturally rest upon her right shoulder. Her breath smelled of mint and cinnamon and had we been in a less public place, I would probably have kissed her red lips right then just to taste her pretty mouth. The waitress I had spotted walked up to the table and I ordered her drink and a diet soda for me.
Only a few moments later the band started to play. Though it is not really my kind of music, my sons are pretty good and were really taking off on the local circuit. They played three nights a week on average and pulled in enough money for the five of them to be able to have only minimal other income and still make it. A little more popularity and they would be able to quit their day jobs and go full time music which was their aim. I hadn't been to one of their gigs in a while and this one was a special, one that was higher visibility than their normal gigs. They were opening for a larger, popular west coast band and it was also being picked up by the local PBS television station for possible scheduling as a feature.
Not many people were actually dancing, though there were a lot of people on the "dance floor". About half way through the first set, my son stepped to the microphone and said they were going to slow it down for a song or two. This was something I had suggested and they had implemented a few weeks earlier.
"Do you dance, Kim?" I asked. She had finished most of her drink and was still pressed lightly against me. She looked over at me and grinned slightly before nodding. We stood and headed to the dance floor. Several years earlier I had taken a ballroom dance class with my now deceased wife, so I knew what I was doing on the dance floor. I was pleasantly surprised when Kim moved into my arms and showed that she too knew ballroom dancing as we moved into a rumba. After a minute or so and the recognition of each other's ability to dance well, I said "swing" in her ear. She nodded so I led us into the forms of American Swing which actually fit the beat a little better at 35 bars per minute.
We danced through the rest of that song and the slightly faster next song at about 38 bars per minute. By the end, we were reveling in the dance and people were mostly watching us move. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not a fancy awesome dancer, but Kim was wildly attractive and moved like she lived on a cloud. All I had to do was lead her through the forms and give her space to shine, and she did. We left the dance floor at the end of the song to a small amount of applause as the next song began.