New member here, and had hoped to submit this for the Halloween Contest. Too late! I wrote this original story for inclusion in an Erotic/Horror anthology. It was turned down by the editors, but I have posted it in some few places and it has drawn favorable responses.
Cal Green knew he looked good. He had inherited his mother's dark good looks and his dad's size. Six feet two in his stocking feet, and not an ounce of fat on the 190 pound frame. Black curly hair, teeth so white they sparkled in his tan face, and eye lashes women would kill for. And the body. Not only did the work at the warehouse demand strength and stamina, but he worked out on the weights five nights a week at the fitness center. Saturday night no workout, usually home recovering from Friday.
Friday night, yeah! Cal's night to prowl. Now it was Friday and Cal sat at the bar and checked the merchandise. This club, only a few blocks from the Winston College campus was a good hunting ground. He usually could score with a broad two or three times a month. Not bad, better than any of the other guys at work, if you didn't count those who were married or had a steady piece.
Cal didn't want a steady piece, and he damn sure didn't want to be married. He wanted to develop his pecs and pick up a strange piece whenever he wanted some without having to explain it or sneak around like those poor losers at work.
The tall dark gal in the booth near the back looked like the target for tonight. Damn she looked good. Looked a lot like that sexy gal on TV who introduced those horror movies. Sort of spooky looking. Long black hair down to her ass and black, hot looking eyes. Blood red mouth, blood red nails. Tight black turtleneck top and a tight spandex skirt that stopped half way up her legs showed off her figure to anyone who cared to look.
Cal was looking. She knew his attention was on her, he could tell. He could have sworn she deliberately showed him a lot of thigh when she crossed those long legs. He turned sideways at the bar so she could have a good look at his shoulders.
That always got them. He would let them look for a while and then wander over slowly and ask if he could buy them a drink. By then they couldn't wait to say yes.
Let her wait a little, he decided. It would be there for him when he wanted it. Do her good to anticipate a little, thinking about those muscles and how he would look with his shirt off. He finished his beer, holding the glass tightly so the muscles in his arm stood out like cords. That ought to get her panties wet, if she's wearing any, Cal thought.
Cal was just about ready to order another beer and carry it over to her booth when the vision walked in the door. Blonde hair down to her shoulders, a red sweater over a white blouse and a black and red plaid pleated skirt that hit mid thigh. My God, Cal thought, she's even wearing sneakers and white sox. Is she even old enough to be in here? Then he looked at the pointed peaks the breasts made beneath the sweater and the swell of hips under the skirt and knew she was old enough.
Cal smacked his lips. Hell, he thought, old enough to bleed, old enough to butcher, so the saying goes. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she climbed onto a stool at the end of the bar, only about five feet two, she literally had to climb onto the stool, and Cal got a flash of white panties under the plaid skirt as she did. A flash was all it took, he felt himself start to stiffen inside his tight jeans.
No time to waste on this one, he thought as he swung off the stool and went to her. He got to her at the same time as Johnny the bartender. Trust Johnny to try to make a move on this one. Cal wasn't worried, he knew he was the best looking guy in the bar, and knew that if any gal in here was looking for some fun, and had a choice, there could be no question, she would pick him. Every guy in the place would give his left nut to move in on this one, but Cal was sure his dark good looks and sculptured physique would assure this college cunt would pick him.
"I'm buying the lady a drink," Cal told the leering bartender before Johnny even had a chance to open his mouth. He turned his gaze on her face and gave her the full impact of his best smile with all those white teeth.
"What're you drinkin' sweetheart?" he asked.
She actually blushed, but didn't look away. "Could I have a Tom Collins?" she asked. She was talking to him, ignoring Johnny.
"Sure honey, a sweet drink for a sweet little lady." Cal dumped bills on the bar without taking his eyes off her. "Bring the lady a Tom Collins and I'll have another beer, Johnny," Cal said.
Johnny was pissed. You could hear it in his voice as he muttered about not losing his license and could he see some ID?
The girl pulled a wallet from her purse and flipped it open. The Student ID card with her picture identified her as Adams, Mina, 22, full time student, transferring in at the beginning of the semester.
Johnny went grumbling off to fix her drink as Cal swung onto the stool next to her and again with that sure-fire smile said, "Well hello, Mina Adams. What brings you in here?"
"My Dad and I moved here just after the first of the year. I'm a student at Winston," she said. "My first time in here. Is it a fun place?" She smiled up at Cal and he was mesmerized.
"Knew I hadn't seen you here before," Cal told her. "I would for sure have remembered seeing you."