The Bar Scene 7

It took some convincing but I managed to convince my husband to let me go to Fort Lauderdale with my best friend Gwen. She had just gotten divorced and needed some attention, attention that would come very easily to her given how gorgeous she was.

I wanted her to go slow, though, so before hitting any clubs we went to a comedy club for an "open mike" session. Laughter, it seems, helped fuel Gwen's libido. "Come on," she said. "Let's go have some fun."

Gwen and I squeezed into our rented compact car and headed for one of the hottest spots on the Intracoastal, a two-story nightclub with a raucous dance floor on the top level and a quiet, dark romantic lounge on the lower floor. I was painfully aware of Gwen's short hot orange miniskirt and her long legs sticking out of it, embarrassed by the comparison with my own black elastic band slacks. My outfit, I reminded myself, was at least very comfortable and I was in relaxation mode, not

getting hit on

mode.

Gwen was aware of nothing but a loud AC/DC song blaring from the car radio. When we pulled up in front of the club, she tossed the car keys to an attendant, grabbed the ticket from his hand and dragged me by the hand up the stairs to the dance floor. It took less than ten minutes for someone ten years younger than Gwen to sidle up to her and invite her to, as he said,

get down

. I smiled at the site of my best friend wiggling her butt and jiggling her breasts as she tried to keep up with the young crowd writhing to the beat of some music she didn't recognize.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye, a young man in a blue dress shirt and red tie walking toward me. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his outfit, but he looked, I decided,

nice

. A little square, perhaps, but nice. I was certain he would walk right past me, but instead he stopped.

"Hi. I'm Chris. May I join you?"

I hadn't expected such quiet politeness from a man at the club, especially such a young man, a young man who, with his dark hair, dark complexion, dark eyes and bright smile could probably have any woman he wanted. I judged him to be in his early twenties and wondered what exactly he wanted with

me

. "Sure. I'm Keiko."

"The way we're dressed," Chris said, "you and I seem to be the only two people in here who aren't cruising."

I laughed. "You mean to tell me that you're not cruising?"

"Uh uh. I mean, I'm interested in meeting someone interesting, and you seem interesting."

I laughed again. "Me?"

Chris smiled. "You seem, unlike most of the women in here, like someone who I could actually converse with. Let me order you another of whatever it is you're having and, if you don't mind, tell me about yourself."

I stifled a giggle. This young man, this

boy

, was so old-fashioned, and I loved it. "I'll have a gin and tonic, thank you." I paused to determine what information I would offer about myself, deciding to avoid anything associated with my age or, certainly, my marital status. So I made some stuff up. "I'm an elementary school teacher. Second grade. How about you?"

Chris paid for the drinks and shrugged. "Software support. Very boring. But I'm interested in what you do. It seems to me that second grade--the kids are seven or so, right?--it seems to me that's when kids become totally obnoxious."

I covered my mouth, afraid that I would choke because I laughed so hard. His statement was funny and made funnier by the fact that I knew nothing about teaching. "Trust me," I gasped. "I taught Kindergarten last year and they could be pretty obnoxious."

Chris and I talked and laughed a lot and not once did he suggest that he wanted to do anything but talk and laugh. But the crowd got larger and the music got louder and soon we couldn't hear each other.

Putting his mouth as close to my ear as he could, Chris said, "Would you like to go downstairs where it's quieter?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

The downstairs lounge was all but deserted. Two couples sat in a corner booth, drinking and laughing, and a lone server stood morosely behind the bar.

"Gee," Chris said. "It's nice and quiet down here. Let's grab that booth on the other side of the lounge. What would you like to drink?"

"Hmmm. A piña colada," I answered.

"Oh," Chris said. "I like those. I'll have one, too."

I giggled and rolled my eyes. "You like piña coladas?"

"Oh," Chris snorted. "I know. Not very manly, huh? Would you rather I order a shot of

Jack Daniels

?"

I instantly felt like an idiot. Chris was so nice and I had just belittled him for...for what? "No. I just thought...hung up on stereotypes, you know? I think it's refreshing that you...um..."

"I've let you squirm enough." Chris laughed. "I mean, who cares what someone drinks? If you were to order the

Jack

and not me, would that make you manly? I think not. Anyway, why don't you take the couch and I'll take a chair."

I smiled. I was beginning to like Chris, perhaps a bit too much. I had to be at least eight or ten years older than him, maybe more, but I enjoyed his company. Like he said, we could converse.

It was after two drinks that our conversation slowed. Somehow, I wasn't sure when, Chris had slid close to my on the leather couch. He smiled at me and our eyes locked.

"If it's okay," he murmured, "I'd like to do something."

My pulse raced. "What would that be?"

Chris leaned across my body and pressed his lips lightly against mine.

My mouth opened a fraction, just enough to accept the tip of his tongue. His mouth opened a bit more to accept mine. Our kiss was soft and warm.

Chris pulled back and whispered in my ear. "You're very beautiful, Keiko. I'm glad we met."

I felt his fingers caress my neck. My hand slid into his hair as I pulled his head toward me. My eyes closed and gave way to the sensation of two fingers tracing their way down my down my neck toward the space between my breasts. He may have been young, but it was clear that he was experienced. I barely noticed—but trust me I

noticed

—when he deftly popped the top button of my blouse.

My heart was pounding so hard I was almost unable to breathe when as fingers made their way into my bra and slid under my breast. A gentle heat became a hot coal when his fingers surrounded my nipple and applied soft pressure. Two fingers became four and then five. He massaged my breast and rolled my nipple, gently at first and then harder. My tongue crept into his mouth and my hand slipped up his leg, resting on the hard bulge in his crotch. I knew that we were probably being observed and I didn't care. In fact the mere idea that we were being watched made me crazy.

I also knew that if I had been wearing a dress his hands would have been between my thighs and inside my pussy. What a thrill

that

would have been. But I wasn't wearing a dress, so I did the next best thing.

I know I shouldn't have done it but I reached between his legs and squeezed his prick hard, moaning when he squeezed my nipple equally as hard. Without thinking about what I might actually do, I started to unzip his pants. Thankfully I was so excited by what was going on I actually came right then and there, otherwise, who knows what might have happened.

Only after my orgasm passed was I able to breathe. Reluctantly I pulled my head away from his and whispered, "Let's go upstairs. I have to see my friend."

Chris smiled and tossed a bunch of bills on the table. Lacing his fingers with mine, he led me up the stairs to the noisy bar.

Just before we were about to step into the bar, I put my hand on his chest. "Wait here," I said. The moisture between my legs was all too apparent as I scanned the dance floor for Gwen. I felt so weak I was barely able to stand.

Finally I saw Gwen and waved to her. I regretted what I was about to do, but I had to do it. "Gwen," I shouted. "I have to get out of here."

"Are you leaving with that guy? Jesus, I hope not. I'd--"

"Please. I just have to go."

"Did he do something? Son of a bitch, he'd better not have--"

"No. Please. Let's go."

Gwen stared at me and rolled her eyes in disgust. I can't say that I blamed her. I had just ripped her away from a certain sexual encounter, one she sorely needed. "All right," she sighed. "Come on."

On shaky legs, I stumbled after Gwen. She stopped when she saw Chris smiling at me. "You go ahead," I whispered. "I'll catch up."

Gwen shot an eyeful of anger at Chris and stormed down the stairs to the front of the building.

I summoned all the courage I could and smiled at Chris. "I'm leaving now. It was nice to meet you. I'm going back to my hotel with my friend now. Goodnight."

He looked at me in shock. "After what we just did? Why?"

I guess I couldn't blame him for being confused but what could I do?

I

am

married after all. There's a fine line between flirting and cheating, and I wasn't about to cheat.

Oh, by the way, after Gwen dropped me off she went back to the club. She came back to the hotel at four AM. She looked a bit...disheveled but had a big smile on her face. At least she wasn't angry at me anymore.