She strutted into the bar in her beige and tan retro platform pumps, tight black leggings and a long gold lame tunic. She was made up, perfumed, and had her “ready to fuck” attitude on. She worked her way through the throng of horny men standing at the bar examining potential candidates for the night.
She could feel their pricks stiffen as her musk penetrated their nostrils. She could have any one of them and she was in the mood to tease. She knew she could get away with a casual brush against a shoulder or a friendly pat on the back, but what she really wanted was evil sexual revenge.
She wanted to feel up each swelling male member, grabbing the girth of it through the fabric of their Levi’s, reaching back between their ass cheeks to find their balls and squeeze, grab their asses and whisper her hot breath onto their ears and necks – getting even more of a rise in the goose bumps of anticipation.
Ha! But she wasn’t serious. Besides, she didn’t want to start a brawl. She stopped to chat with a couple of guys and caught Jack’s eye. He was sitting at a corner table with some college co-eds, a couple of brown haired non-descript intellectuals who wore no make-up and probably had pubic bushes and vaginal side burns long enough to braid half way down their unshaven thighs.
She had found a letter in an envelope which she had opened before she realized that it was addressed to him. The note was very sweet. The girl was so sorry that she couldn’t go all the way with him because something about her birth control had been messed up. She closed by saying that she would like another date with him to make up for it because she had really enjoyed making out with him. (!!!)
Kristie was livid! Sick to her stomach with jealousy. She confronted him. They fought. He said, “Well, we’re not married.”
Then she gave him an ultimatum, “Well, we should be! We’ve been living together for two years! Now is the time! I need your intent to register. Either put a ring on me or end it.” She raised her left hand and wriggled her fingers at him as if she was cupping his balls. Then she stormed out and went to her gig.
How would he feel if she made out with someone else? She was so sorely tempted now to begin making out with one of the studs standing at the bar. There was a great looking tall blond with a huge erection staring at her right now. She walked past him brushing her fingertips along his face and blowing him a kiss as she approached the band and took the mic for her first number.
“A Good Man Is Hard to Find….” She sang to every man in the room except Jack. She did not look at him once. At the end of the song the blond guy looked at her hopefully, but Jack was already by her side with his arm around her on stage left waiting to take her up in his gorgeous biceps. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth, then he whispered in her ear, “I am a good man. I only want you.”
Even though that note poked at her doubts, she let herself believe it. “Prove it to me,” she said. She still had two more songs to sing, but the next day he took her out to buy a ring. It was his attempt to assuage her, but also to make sure she knew he was serious. The ring was gold with two leaves embossed on either side of a gold topaz.
“Well, that was a start anyway,” she thought to herself. But that note, that illicit make-out session with a girl he didn’t even care about haunted her for decades.
(First published 1/18/12)
