Julia tilted the glass toward the ceiling, emptying the last of her second martini into her mouth. She felt the sting of the gin slide down her throat and settle in her stomach. She grimaced as the searing warmth made its way through her body. Her head spun a little as let out a long breath, smelling the alcohol coming off her own tongue. Her perfect, angular, angelic features were shaded by the blooming red of two drinks. She twirled her silky brown hair in a perfectly-manicured finger as a voice rang out.
"Julia fucking Chase?!"
Julia slowly turned to look to her left, her reaction dulled by the two drinks she had finished. A black-haired man made his way into her vision. She first noticed his T-shirt and jeans. He seemed terribly underdressed for this swanky hotel bar.
She re-directed her attention to his expectant face. She suddenly realized who he was. Tim! Her college boyfriend. What she knew as his long, flowing hair had been trimmed to a boring, professional cut.
"Hey, Tim!"
Her voice was a little slurred. She shook her head to try and clear the cobwebs as he leaned over to give her a side hug in her sitting position. She felt his right hand slip innocently along her side and near her hip.
"Wow, it's really been forever." Tim said, as he pulled out the chair at the half booth she was sitting at.
"Yeah, it really has," Julia replied. She paused.
"So... what's up? What are you doing here?" She continued.
"Just wanted to get that blowjob!" Tim put his palms out.
Shockingly, she still remembered what he was referencing. Julia remembered the second semester of her freshman year, when a 19-year old girl from the Chicago suburbs was still stinging from getting dumped by the 21-year old junior from New York. He had called her on Thursday night, as he often did. She knew a slightly drunk Tim asking for "head" was probably on the other line. Of course, it wasn't. But he still said "I'll wait for that blowjob!" as he hung up on a devastated freshman.
Tim had been her orientation mentor (a job he did only to fulfill the school's service requirement) and had used the position masterfully in getting Julia into his apartment. She looked up to the older engineering major, who seemed to know everything about everything at the elite university. A child of Jewish immigrants, Julia was not accustomed to the lofty air of the Ivy League school she had found herself attending. The Northeastern upper crust was a foreign society to her and Tim knew it. He had helped her a lot in acclimating. He had also helped himself...
Julia shook out of her reminiscence and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, well, so, how did the whole 'start-up' thing turn out?"
She figured that not indulging his crude joke was the best way out. Men, and Tim especially, would always see it as an opening if she responded to their sexual remarks or innuendo.
He laughed.
"You don't care about some shit from ten years ago."
She smiled. He was right. Ten years ago, she still wanted to be a lawyer. Now, she was a former money girl at a consulting firm and a current money girl at a PE firm.
"Yeah, you're right. What are you up to now?"
"Oh, same shit. I wanted to ask why you're drunk in a bar alone?"
"I'm not drunk!" Julia exclaimed.
Tim grinned and tilted his head at the empty martini glass.
"I'm sure that wasn't the first one. That's a lot of gin. Vermouth too, I suppose."
"Well, it's been a tough year. I was on the team of a bunch of flopped IPOs."
Tim's eyes widened in surprise.
"Did you really turn over to the dark side?"
"Yeah, well, loans had to be paid and not all of us have daddy's buddies to turn to."
"Woah there, tiger," Tim replied, "I seem to recall being a great-"
Tim was interrupted by Julia's elbow slipping out from under her arm. She had been holding up her head, which nearly hit the table as she flailed.
"Oh shit," Tim exclaimed. He quickly went around the table to steady her and move the glass. A waiter rushed over.
"I'm so sorry, sir, I meant to grab that." He picked up the glass, along with the napkin and the cocktail pick.
"No, it's fine, she's just -- y'know." Tim smiled as he mimed a drunken hand. The waiter smiled and walked off.
"Okay, that -- I'm fine," Julia protested, "I literally just slipped."
"Sure thing, drunk princess." Tim's right arm had wrapped around her right shoulder. His left hand was gripped around her left arm. Julia felt his knuckles press against her breast. She smiled inwardly. The classic high school boy's move. They always thought they were slick, not realizing that girls could feel it when something touched their boobs. She didn't resist or protest though. Whatever affection she had for him in college apparently stuck, at least a bit.
"You need to get home." Tim interrupted her musings.
"I'm on the 24th floor -- only in New York for a few days."
Julia silently started to wonder whether he still lived in New York. How had he stumbled into her so coincidentally? Did he even know she lived in San Francisco? A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she thought about their college days. So many people had come and gone. Their lives had surely changed so much. But here they were, together again, somehow.
"Ah, couldn't get away from home, huh?" Tim laughed, "Hey, Chicago's a great town."
She didn't correct him as he lifted her up and began walking toward the elevator bank.
"I don't need your help, like actually."
"Come on, what would it look like if you fell down on my watch?"
Tim's left hand stayed gripped against her arm and pressed against her breast. His right hand had slipped to her waist, cradling her just far enough from her ass that it was still polite.
---
When they got up to her room, Tim asked where her card was.
"It's fine, I-"
His hand slipped against her right ass cheek.
"Oops! These don't have pockets."
She jerked away as Tim grinned slyly. She pulled the card out of her purse and ignored him. Sometimes a straying hand stayed singular. He wordlessly followed her into the room.
She tossed her belongings on the table and began to take off her shoes.
"I gotta say, Julia, you look fucking incredible." Tim said suggestively. "29 must be the physical prime of every woman."
Julia suddenly noticed how exposed she felt. Her skintight leggings displayed her ass exactly as she had intended when she had bought them. Although she wasn't sure she wanted the attention now. Her blouse was buttoned up enough to cover her bra, but not enough to fully hide her full cleavage, which she was now displaying by bending over to take off her shoes. She quickly pulled her arm to her chest, pressing her shirt against her skin to hide the tops of her breasts.
"Okay, there," she replied, "that's enough. I thought you were just helping me up to my room?"
Tim's hands went up in mock defense.
"Absolutely, you know I'm a good guy. You just look really fucking hot. I was thinking about some of our best times. You can't blame me, can you?"
Julia rolled her eyes. She wondered whether he actually knew that "fucking hot" wasn't as much a compliment as he wanted her to think. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror across the room. She did look very good. She turned ever so slightly to the side so that she could see her profile.
Her full 34C breasts were held up firmly. Her blouse was not tight-fitting, but pressed close against her bust. Her leggings hugged all her curves and her ass stood at attention, high and tight. Her bright red lipstick popped against her blue eyes and brown hair. Cut around shoulder-length, they framed her face well. She knew her full, plump lips made men's imagination run wild, which was why she always went with the bright red.
"Look -- I remember what that ass did in college," Tim said, "and you still look really good. You actually don't look much worse."
"Much worse?" Julia scoffed. "I'm literally 29. I know I don't look any different."
Tim raised his eyebrows. He steepled his fingers and spoke slowly.
"Girl. Come on. We all age. Those -"
Julia interrupted. "And when did I say I was comfortable with you talking about me like that. We haven't 'dated' in a decade."
Tim put his hands up. "Hey, I'm just observing. It's not like I'm... Look, all I'm saying is that I remember our great times and you still look good. Wonderbra and Spanx are essential to any woman's toolkit."
"I do not need anything to keep everything tight." Julia exclaimed angrily, putting her hands to her hips for emphasis.