“Well, I’m not a safe bet. But you might be immune. Maybe it’s just the guys in this town. In my experience, not a one of them could find a woman’s clit with two hands and a map.”
“I’m sincerely sorry to hear that, for your sake. I feel nothing but pity for the fools who’ve tried and failed, but I can assure you that I require no assistance. If I want to get you off, you can be damn sure I’ll get you off.”
Her lips part on a sigh, as her thighs spread just a fraction. I can tell my words have turned her on.
“You’re local, yes?” My innocuous words belie my intent, as I press my hand to the juncture of her thighs and push her panties to the side.
Around us, the bar buzzes with activity: those guys in the back play darts, the bartender bustles around, and patrons come and go, as I work my finger against her clit, her soft gasps the only indication that we’re doing anything more than having a casual conversation.
“Yes.” Her answer has a double meaning, and I keep the steady rhythm that has her pulse beating wildly.
“You come here often?” Two can play the double-entendre game.
“Ha.” Her laugh is choked. “Not hardly.”
Twisting my wrist, I drive deeper, my finger curving upward. She flattens one hand on the bar and the other around her half-full drink, steadying herself. She’s close, I can feel it. I know next to nothing about her, but I can sense that she’s close. It’s like our bodies know each other, and right now, hers knows that mine has the power to make her feel good.
I didn’t walk into this bar with the intention of finger-fucking a sexy stranger, but here we are.
Her hand leaves the bar, clutching my thigh, as I watch her orgasm bloom across her face. Her tongue peeks out from her full, parted lips, and for a moment, I indulge in the fantasy of that tongue and those lips wrapped around my cock.
I slip my fingers from her channel, drawing them to my mouth, to discreetly sucking her juices from my fingertips.
I hear her gasp next to me, as though that simple move was more daring, more erotic than bringing her to orgasm while sitting next to her on a stool in a crowded bar.
“My place,” she says, the certainty in her tone further igniting my lust. Christ, but she’s hot, and there’s no way I want to let things end here.
I may have to head to the airport in seven hours, but that just means I have seven glorious hours to explore all the ways my body can make hers scream, writhe, pant, and fall apart.
The Tavern is pretty dead for a Friday. I attribute this to the fact that the weather is shit. Our little tourist trap sits right on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, in the heart of the Chesapeake Bay. Since we’re right on the water, we don’t usually get the snow that northern and western Maryland have to deal with.
Lucky for us, that’s not true today. The white stuff is falling, the roads are a slushy mess, and everyone’s in a panic. It won’t last, but the locals are battening down the hatches as we speak. I’d bet money that the grocery stores are out of milk, bread, and toilet paper. I went earlier this week and stocked up on brownie mix. What can I say? I need to be prepared in case of snowpocalypse.
For now, though, I’m nestled in a cushy padded booth, across from my best friend, sharing lunch. Although, to be fair, sharing isn’t really an accurate description. Elaine has barely touched her food. I’m halfway through my plate of pulled-pork nachos, and she’s nibbling on a single tortilla chip.
“E? You doing alright?”
“I feel like death warmed over. And all I want to do is sleep. Daryl stopped in to check on me this morning and told me to head home after lunch. I wasn’t going to, but my bed and blankets are calling me.”
“That’s probably for the best. But think positively—you get a prize at the end! And morning sickness doesn’t last too long, right?”
“Not for most people. Mine is hitting pretty hard already, though. And the term ‘morning sickness’ is a bit of a misnomer, sadly.”
“Ya think? I’m pretty sure it’s a damn lie. It’s one in the afternoon, and you look like you’re barely hanging on. Reason #473 that I’m never having kids.”
At this true statement, my best friend cracks a smile. “I know and respect your stance on parenthood, but you’re going to be the world’s best auntie.”
“Damn straight I am. This little nugget will be spoiled rotten. Remind me how long I have to wait until you find out the gender?”
“Like, a couple months? I’m almost twelve weeks along, so keep this all on the down-low. I think we find out if it’s a boy or girl at twenty weeks or so.”
Elaine looks listless, and I feel for her. This is shaping up to be a long pregnancy. “You want to get out of here? You’re looking even paler than usual.”
She takes a sip of ginger ale. “I’m good for a little while longer. Besides, I’ve missed the last two Friday lunches with you because of stupid meetings. I need to get all caught up on the gossip.”
“Yes, well. I am the queen of tea. But sadly, there’s not much to report. Dan asked out Mia in Marketing, but she turned him down flat.”
“Wait, I thought she was getting married?”
