She was as attractive a woman as I had ever seen: dark hair that hung below her shoulders and delicately lovely facial features with an alluring smile. Her figure was well filled out, not fat, or even chubby, just well rounded. Her every movement displayed an athletic grace. I estimated her at about my height, 5'10". From the way her breasts jiggled when she moved or laughed, I knew she wasn't wearing a bra but her loose blouse revealed nothing to my eyes, even though I caught myself a couple of times straining to see the a nipple poking out. She wore faded jeans that fit her form well.
I watched her walk into the bar with a young man, shortly after I arrived. They sat at a table not far from me and began talking. They were about the same age - - late twenties to early thirties, I guessed. Both smiled lightly and their conversation seemed casual.
Suddenly I started, realizing I had been staring at her, completely lost in thought, imagining how she would look naked, how she would feel, and going further with my mind's fantasy. My heart suddenly raced as I realized she was looking straight at me, our gazes meeting. I also realized that I had the beginning of an erection. We continued to look at each other for several seconds, but when she smiled slightly, I looked away quickly, feeling a bit confused and embarrassed.
I had not always been this way. I used to be very confident about most things. I had worked my way up in a large corporation to a middle management position, but then as I reached my early forties, things began to fall apart. Self-doubts began as I was passed over for several promotions, and people whom I had considered to be my inferiors were advanced instead. One of them was now my supervisor. In disgust, I had applied for other jobs and discovered no interest in me or my skills.
My growing lack of confidence began to work its way into other areas of my life. I stopped working out, and although I wasn't fat, I wasn't in shape either. Still worse, whereas I had I had never had doubts about my sex appeal to women and my prowess in bed; I had begun to wonder if I was really attractive to women. I began to realize that, although I had had frequent sexual encounters outside my marriage, it was almost always with women at work who were subordinate to me on the job. I began to wonder if they had had sex with me merely because of my position in the corporation, thinking it might help them get ahead. I also begin think that they were laughing at me behind my back and I stopped hitting on them, keeping to myself as much as possible.
Home life also deteriorated. I had been the king of my castle, so to speak. My wife, Beth, stayed home and did what I told her to and I always held the threat of divorce over her head. She knew I had affairs, although I never told her about them, but never objected or complained as I was the one who brought in the money so she could live well. I had been well aware that I was in control, that is, until my self-assurance began to crack. The more unsure I became of myself at work and with my extra-curricular sex life, the less sure I became at home, and the less frequently I had sex with my wife.
Now in my early fifties, my wife and I very seldom had sex. I was sure she only fucked me because of my income and the things we had. Maybe she was even disgusted afterward. In the last six months, we had had sex only once.
Instead of sex with my wife or other women, I began to frequent bars to look for beautiful women. Then I would go home, fantasize and masturbate. Occasionally, I would go to a topless bar, although I felt very self-conscious there.
And so, I was embarrassed, knowing it was ridiculous to think the woman I was looking at in the bar tonight had any real interest in me. She was likely thinking that I was old enough to be her father as she smiled at the "nice old man."
She and the young man continued to talk, bending forward over the small table. I could tell by their facial expressions and lip movements that the conversation was becoming more animated, perhaps from excitement or maybe irritation covered with a smile. Then the man stood, dropped some bills on the table and walked out, leaving her there alone.
After finishing her drink, she rose from the table and come over to the bar and sat near me, a stool separating us. I kept glancing her way, not wanting to seem obvious, but unable to keep my eyes off her. She looked straight ahead and didn't appear to notice me. A couple different men came over and made a pass at her, and each time she brushed them off casually.
"Do you have a light?"
The voice broke through my fantasy, which had been my focus on and off. I realized she was talking and looked over. She had a cigarette in her fingers and was looking into my eyes, a soft smile on her lips. I saw her eyes for the first time - - almost black; they weren't bedroom eyes, but were very enticing with an expression I couldn't decipher readily. Perhaps controlled excitement?
"I'm sorry, I don't smoke." I replied, and then wanted to kick myself. "I'll get some matches." I blurted hurriedly.
Calling the bartender over, I asked for matches, opened the book, removed on and lit it in my cupped hands. She leaned over, putting her face almost in my hands, sucking the fire into the tobacco, then exhaled as she raised up, sending a cloud of smoke over my face.
"Thank you." She said as she inhaled again, then exhaled, sending another wave of smoke over me.
I haven't smoked for years, and normally having smoke blown in my face is a sure path to irritation and verbal confrontation. But for some reason, this was not irritating. It was even - - well - - sexy.
"You're welcome." I replied.
She smiled as she saw my eyes water. "You don't like smoke do you? I can move to another seat if you wish." I saw the expression of excitement grow in her eyes, almost like she was baiting me.
"No!" I said quickly. "It's fine." Then after a pause I managed to say, "I enjoy you being here."
"Thank you." She exhaled again, sending more smoke over me, then becoming serious. "I guess you saw Bob leave. He can be such a narrow minded asshole."
"That was the guy you were with? Bob?"
"Yes - - 'was' is right."
"I'm sorry." I said.
"That's all right." She replied, smiling now. "I don't need to put up with his shit. Anyway, I think I'll have another glass of wine."
I called the bartender over and when she ordered the wine, I paid for it. She didn't protest, just smiled and thanked me.
Raising the glass to her lips, she took a sip, and then exclaimed. "Oh Fuck!"
My breath caught. I find it extremely sexy hearing a woman use explicit language like 'fuck.' I could feel my cock trying to harden more and since it was in the wrong position in my boxers, I knew it was making a bulge in my pants. She glanced down for a moment and I was sure she saw, but she appeared not to notice.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"We came here in Bob's car. Guess I'll have to take a taxi home."
"I can take you." I said quickly.
"I can't bother you to do that. We don't even know each other."
"I don't mind at all."
"Are you sure?"
"Please, I would like to."
"Thank you." Then, "My name's Susan."
