|My, My, Ain’t It SweetPage 1 of 1 |
|He’d seen her at the bar, talking to her friends. Her body draped in a dress that showed every curve, her hair style that of Jaclyn Smith, her pose so meticulous. She was the hottest girl in the bar, and he wanted her.|
She’d caught him looking at her through the corner of her eye. The Gucci dress, the Italian heels, were doing their job. She stood their talking to her friends, feigning oblivion to the guys that were admiring her. She knew she was wanted by most, and also knew that there would be only one that would get her, as she ordered another glass of champagne.
He started formulating his game plan as to just how he’d get her into bed tonight. After all, she was a challenge. He sized her up. Expensive taste in clothes, drinking champagne, but not buying for her friends. When she ordered, she ordered for herself, so that told him she was either cheap, or poor. He started to think of a plan.
She knew he was looking at her, desiring her. She sipped her champagne slowly, paying distracted attention to her gossiping friends. Such stupid women she thought, all these great guys, earning huge incomes, and they were oblivious to it. She was going to get her man, and not have to work too hard doing it either. She lifted a well toned leg onto an empty stool, as if having a cramp, and massaged it slowly. She could feel his gaze on her, and that of most every man in the room.
He saw her lift her leg onto the stool, and admired the well toned body she had. He desired her even more now, but how to get her he thought. He could walk up and make a comment on her fashion he thought, but that would be too gay. If he commented on her body, it would be stating the obvious. So he thought he’d walk up and ask her about herself, a woman’s favorite subject.
Oh my god, she thought to herself, he’s walking towards me. Be aloof, she thought to herself. Let him make the moves. She’d just react to them, and not say anything honest or true. If he says something specific, she’d just voice the question to her friends, and she’d never have to really answer it. His expensive suit and clean cut appearance was making her tingle. This guy was a “keeper”, and she just knew he made loads of money.
He walked up beside her, putting himself between her and her friends, and motioned to the bartender for a drink. This effectively cut her off from her posse, and her “cock-blocker” friends. He turned and looked at her, as if he’d never noticed her until then, and introduced himself. After the brief introductions, he fired her off with the question, “What are you interests?” and then sat back and let her rant on.
As he walked up and introduced himself, she couldn’t believe he had taken an active interest in her, by asking about her life, so she found herself just talking a mile a minute and the night progressed. As the hours went by, she found herself being taken home. What a great guy he was, she thought. He was totally enamored by her Pilates, and her skills at decorating. She knew he was the guy for her.
He sat there, after introducing himself, and listened for hours to her drone on about her exercising and her ability to match a blue with a gray. He thought to himself, just how much longer he could hold on without strangling her, but he knew he’d have to put up with it if he wanted her in bed. Closing time came, her friends had abandoned her as she’d been ignoring them after he’d walked up, as she was totally focused on him, so he offered her a ride home.
After arriving at her place, a sole “good night” kiss led to another and another, and soon they were entwined in the throes of love making, and he moved her into the bedroom and flung her onto the bed, after the obligatory act of kicking the cat off the bed, of course. Dawn arrived and found them embraced and sleeping as one. He awoke first. He looked at her and noticed that the makeup that she’d worn the night before had come off, and that she wasn’t quite the “looker” as he’d initially thought. He cursed the cosmetic industry for creating a lie, as he slid out of bed as quietly as he could, and left without waking her.
She awoke with a smile, and turned over to hug “her man”, only to hug a pillow. He was gone. She felt empty and used. What had been the dawning of a new dream, had turned into a nightmare. She was left alone, and feeling hallow and used. Granted, the night before was wonderful, and she’d enthusiastically enjoyed the sex, but she had tacit desires for a future with him, and she was feeling cast out. She was incensed, and vowed retribution. If she couldn’t have him, then at least she’d make him pay for the night of ecstasy they shared.
He was at his desk about 2 months later, surfing for his favorite team’s scores, and the phone rang. She identified herself, having to remind him of the tryst they’d had, before he’d identify her in his mind. He remembered her. After some social niceties, she dropped the bomb on him, she was pregnant! She also told him that if he didn’t marry her, she would sue him for child support and make his life a living hell.
He thought about it for a moment. She was hot, could suck a golf ball through a garden hose, and had the hottest body he’d ever laid hands on, she was a goddess to him. Then reality came into play and he started laughing. She became distraught over the phone, wondering why he wasn’t taking it seriously, when he announced to her that he’d had a vasectomy over 10 years ago! As he heard the “click” on the other end, he just thought to himself “****”, put the phone into its cradle, and went back to surfing the internet.