"I'm Randy, this is Jen, and Brooke, and that very short drink of water you sent the drink to is Clodia. How did you know they like old fashioneds?"
"Lucky guess. It's good to meet you all. May I join you?" Everyone nods, and you scoot next to me in the booth. I can smell you this close, and it sets my pulse racing, as always. You're very carefully not touching me, as though we had just met. Small talk is harder than it should be, trying to remember what I don't know about you. We all sip and laugh our way through a couple of drinks. Your story is that your friends bailed on you, but you were already in town. I don't know how you found me. It wasn't luck. But I'm enjoying flirting with you ā we skipped that part the first time. Laughing at your jokes, making eye contact, touching your hand, your knee. You resting a hand on my knee.
I turn to you. "My friends are ready to dance, and I had really been looking forward to joining them. Do you dance?"
"I don't really. But I'd be glad to tag along if that's okay with the group?" Everyone nods, and we gather our things to head to booty mashup night.
We chat on the walk, enjoying each other's company. It dawns on me that, in the context of the game, I can be a little sassier. After all, if I don't know you, why on earth should I be submissive towards you? So I start to tease. A playful tap on your shoulder. A joke that bites. You start to give me a Look, one that normally would quell my sassiness. But not tonight, I just raise an eyebrow back and you remember ā you set the rules. You don't know me.
At the club, I'm feeling good and loose, and try to coax you onto the dance floor. "Come dance with me, L." I pull you closer and whisper in your ear, "After all, how often do you get to touch an ass this good." I start to dance near you. I feel, but can't hear, a low growl in your chest. I smirk, and turn around, dancing my way onto the floor, pulling you by the hand. I can feel the bass in my feet, in my hips. I close my eyes and let myself move to the music. I feel you behind me, your hand loosely but proprietorially on my hip. I turn and say, "Do you want help, or do you want me to do all the work?"
"Next time you can teach me. This time I want you to enjoy yourself. And I want to enjoy you."
"Next time? Getting ahead of yourself a bit there, stranger."
"I guess I am." You try to follow my movement, dancing close. It's the only time I've ever seen you look anything less than totally graceful. I laugh and rejoin my friends, you following behind.
You last about an hour, clearly not enjoying the dancing itself, but every so often you steal a touch, a caress, even dancing with me at one point for a few minutes. I can feel your chest on my back, broad and warm, and relax against you, letting you feel the full motion of my hips. You lower your head to my ear and whisper "Such a tease, Clodia. I'll get you back later." You nip at my earlobe and dig your fingers into my hip before stepping away and addressing the group. "Anyone else tired of dancing? I heard someone mention the possibility of karaoke. That's more my speed. First round's on me if we head to The Crescent?"
My friends agree and we make our boisterous way to the next bar. We hold hands and bump shoulders on the way. When we get there my friends check in with me to make sure I'm okay. I reassure them that I'm fine, and happy. The rest of the night passes in a bit of a blur. I know we sing together at one point. But I'm a little drunker than I should be. My friends leave one by one, except Randy who lives across the street. They aren't at all sure about leaving me with you, so I let them in on the secret, with your permission, and they're finally comfortable leaving me.
As we stumble down the street together I mention that I feel drunker than I should.
