To begin with, I'm not exactly sure why I agreed to go with the girls to the bar that night, but I did. But for you to better understand my story, I need to explain myself a bit better. I'm what you would call a veteran teacher. I've been in the profession for ten years, working as everything from a substitute teacher to a full time contracted teacher in a variety of grades. After a few years of temporary contracts or long-term substitute jobs that gave me little to no security or benefits, I got brave and took a job in a new city and state. It's never easy moving away from everything and everyone you know and love to start anew, but it was that or risk homelessness.
Now, I had only worked for one large school district before, as most of my teaching was at either smaller districts or charter schools, so coming here to the state's largest, and one of the top ten largest school districts was a shock to my system. But if that was a shock, it was nothing to the city I moved to. I had always wanted to live in a big city, but I had no idea how different life here would be for me. I went from a no-name complex with about ten or twelve units to a multi-level, multi-unit apartment complex with a pool, spa, workout room, and more. My commute was now all surface streets, but the traffic was about the same level as what I dealt with back where I used to live.
Because I was hired with several hundred other teachers, I was sent to "new teacher orientation" where I met many other young teachers assigned to my new school, most just starting their careers. With my experience, they quickly realized I was an asset to have. I was able to give some advice as to what they could or should do in certain situations. Often I would hear them talk about going out to clubs and bars on the weekends, but I was never invited.
Then one day at lunch we were sharing about food cravings and one gal said she wanted some sushi. I said how much I liked sushi and suddenly, they all wanted to go out for sushi. One of the girls asked if I wanted to come along and of course I said yes. Sushi led to Italian, steak, and many other restaurants. Dinners would often be followed by the girls wanting to go club hopping or bar crawling. This is when I would usually decline because I either had plans, a class, or something else going on for Saturday.
Until that night, that is. The girls were smart; they made sure I had no plans for Saturday, no classes, no obligations, nothing. We went to our favorite sushi place first, under the guise of a girls' night where we all got dressed up. Now, I'm not against dressing up or going out, but where these girls are in their mid- to late-twenties, I'm in my early forties. Before I was a teacher, I served in the Navy for ten years as a hospital corpsman before cutbacks and no billets forced me to leave. At least I was able to use my GI Bill to pay for my college. The advantage to this was I wasn't burdened with student loans like several of these ladies were.
I wore my best dress; black halter top with a blue paisley handkerchief skirt that stopped about mid-calf and black, strappy sandals with a slight heel. Underneath I wore my strapless black bra and matching black thong panties. I styled my blonde hair, enhancing my natural curls, and put on a full face of makeup, more than the eye shadow and mascara that I would wear to work most days. The girls all wore short, tight fitting skirts, low cut tops, and stiletto heels. They too styled their hair, put on extra makeup, and looked amazing.
After dinner we headed to the bar. Now, normally I'd bail out, but tonight the girls had planned for this by rotating who would ride with me. It was an easy plan as we always met at a central location, then would caravan to the sushi place, and the bar. I've got to give them credit, it was pretty clever on their part, and part of me was so happy to be included, I really didn't mind. Being the oldest of our group, it was a nice ploy on their part.
The bar they picked tonight was a new one for all of us. One of the girl's had a friend who was in the band that was going to perform there, and we were there to be moral support. Since most bands do between three to four sets, I decided if I stayed for the first, and maybe the second, that would be good enough and I could still get home at a decent hour and not be seen as the "old fogy".
The waitress came by to take our drink order, and I ordered a beer as it was what I could afford and liked to drink. Most people like the beer on tap, I like mine in bottles. Tonight the tap was down and all beer had to be in bottles. The waitress said she didn't know why the tap was down, but it went out this afternoon and the replacement parts wouldn't be in until Monday. A couple of the girls complained, but they were short lived. Seems the owner had the good sense to stock up on extra bottles of an assortment of beers for such occasions so there would be no shortage for the customers.
Before long, the band started up, and I must admit, they were pretty good for a local group. Probably one of the best ones I'd had the privilege to hear in a long time. It didn't take long for my friends to get asked to dance until I was the only one left at the table. It wasn't that I didn't want to dance, no one asked me. So, while my friends danced, I sat at our table, guarding the drinks and their purses. I was happy I had switched to my wristlet wallet that also held my cell phone perfectly, instead of bringing my usual bulky purse.
I watched my friends dance and have fun, but I was left feeling like Cinderella's ugly step-sister. Actually, I felt more like her step-mother because of my age. I quietly sipped my beer and enjoyed the music, when I felt someone staring at me. I looked around but from what I could see, everyone was either talking to their neighbor, watching the band, or watching my friends and other ladies dance. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
I ordered a second beer with a glass of water so to keep from getting too drunk and dehydrated. The waitress brought me my items saying that my beer was already paid for but the person wanted to remain anonymous. It wasn't the same brand I had ordered, but I figured for a free beer, I could at least try it. Often, microbrewers will give you a free sample to get you to buy it later, but never had I been given an entire beer for free. I thanked the waitress and asked her to relay my gratitude to my anonymous benefactor.
I tried to see whom she went to next, but the waitress buzzed by several tables so I had no idea who bought my drink. She was hustling like a good waitress should, and no one went long without a fresh drink. The beer I received was a pleasant surprise. It was colder than my first, like it had been almost frozen, and its pleasant and refreshing taste was completely unexpected. I took a quick picture of the label with my phone to remember this brand again.
As I finished my second beer, one of the girls came back to the table. I took advantage of her arrival and dashed to the restroom. I figured I could have one or two more beers, then I'd better stop. I washed up and returned. All the girls were back and there were sampler platters across our tables. I offered to pay for my part but the girls said it was their treat. I grabbed a bit of almost everything, including sauces, except the wings. The band had taken a break and we happily ate. The girls chatted about how friendly the men were and how much fun they were having. I quietly ate, neglecting to share about my free beer.
Another round of drinks were ordered, and once again I received a free beer from my mysterious benefactor. Just as before, it was icy cold and refreshing. I gave the waitress the money for what would have been my second beer as a tip. My rule of thumb was always to tip with every drink when I pay cash, and tip at the end when I pay with credit card. I had brought cash tonight to keep from overspending. The waitress thanked me, then said the man who bought my drinks had tipped her generously. Now I was dying to know who was buying my drinks.
The band started up again, and once again the girls left to dance, leaving me alone at the table. I snacked on onion rings, mozzarella sticks, fried mushrooms, and calamari with an assortment of dips and sauces. I finished my water and third beer, and to my surprise, I wasn't drunk, or even buzzed. I figured the water and food was helping with that so I got brave and ordered another round of beer and water. Of course, just as before, this beer was already paid for. Curiosity was driving me nuts, but now, so was my bladder. Four beers and three glasses of water will do that to a girl. I knew it was time to visit the ladies room again, but none of my friends were looking my way to cover the table.
I was about to abandon my post when Jamie, the girl I had given a ride to the bar, stumbled over to the table. I quickly excused myself and dashed to the restroom before she could voice her objection. Once I was finished, and washed up, I started to return, when a man met me at the doorway that led to the hallway for the two restrooms.
"Good evening," he said in a deep, accented voice.
"Good evening," I said. "That's quite a formal greeting."
"Forgive me," he said, his voice washing over me. "I didn't mean to offend."
He was tall, over six feet, with black hair, green eyes, tanned skin, and gorgeous. My mouth went instantly dry, my nipples hardened, and my pussy dampened. "You... you..." I had to clear my throat, "excuse me. You didn't offend me."
He smiled, lighting up his beautiful face. "I'm glad. Did you like my beers?"
"They were from you?"
"Indeed they were."
Finally, the answer to my question. "I did, very much so. It was by far one of the best beers I've had privilege of drinking."
"I'm glad," he said. "It's a special recipe."
"So you're a microbrewer."
"Something like that."
"I'm Phoebe," I said, extending my hand.
"Zylen," he said, taking my hand. Electricity shot though my body. I couldn't remember the last time a man's touch affected me like this, if ever.
"Thank you for the beers," I managed to say after getting lost in his green eyes for a moment, or twelve.
"If you really want to thank me, I know a way you can."
I should have known, he was trying to get into my panties. "Look," I started politely, "I don't know what kind of woman you think I am, but I'm not someone who will fuck a man over a couple of free beers. It will take a lot more than that to get me out of my clothes."
