Cherchez la femme, Magana
I'd like some feedback if I could get it?
The light were low and the music was more a lusty cry in the far corner of the bar that night. She had brought me along in the fashion of a dare. I would be pushed to drink too much, say the wrong thing, make her mad, make him mad, get in a fight. I knew that was her plan- but those legs and that skirt was too good a bait and I gladly followed her. The skirt was white breezy, the legs were the cinnamon mocha cream color that she knew I had dreamt about. That's why she wore the skirt.
"Why did you want to come here?"
"I didn't. But I knew you didn't. Are you nervous?"
"Not really."
Maybe that was the wrong answer but I'm fair to sure she wanted me to get in trouble tonight and the easiest way was for me to make her mad. To not give her what she wanted.
She always got what she wanted.
First thing first: a round or two of Red stripe beer. It's like water to me by now but I don't let her know that. I let her think drinking isn't what gets me home at night. I make the face. I look confused at the bottle and I pick the label as if I'm avoiding my second. My third.
She smokes. Camels. Only Camels.
She gets more looks than she meant to- of course there couldn't be too many. Her body a tightly coiled spring almost glowing with heat sits across from me. Her legs get the attention first. Smooth and warm to the pallette. Her eyes locked on me she slowly does that same dance step every woman in a skirt with a good pair knows and every eye in the bar is one her.
It's time. She thinks she saw him first. He's got an insufferable sports logo on a baseball cap, cargo shorts, and a polo shirt. He's the perfect type for this sort of thing. My 'test' drinks light beer. At least, I'm not going to feel too broken up about this.
"Hey." He manages to slur.
"Hi." Her voice has no accent- only an impish eagerness.
"You here alone"
"Kind of- this guy won't leave me alone"
I smile as pleasantly as I can. I'm not good at smiling.
"Hey, you gotta go, dude."
"I"m fine, thanks."
He's confident. I'm not the kind of guy he's got to worry about. And I'm probably drunk which will only make me easier. I'm chiefly disappointed. I was sure she was going to make this hard for me. He's big enough but he's not a real danger. So, I start slow.
"She's been drinking. She's kidding."
"I think she likes me better."
"I do." He eyes are two pools of shine and darkness.
"Well, I'm not leaving. I was here first. And I'm done done with my drink."
"You think I can't make you leave, man?"
She's staring at me now. She slowly sits back in her chair. She lets her back arch setting her head back against the chair. Her legs splay slightly. The bait of having her legs crossed isn't necessary now. Her knees seperate as far as they can. The length of the skirt is enough to keep the any modesty even if doesn't care too.
"I think you're going to spill my beer." I lean forward and take a sip.
He steps back to give me room. I sip again very slowly. I maintain eye contact as he tries to remember how to hit me. I look to her briefly before standing. Her eyes are telling but in a language she hasn't taught me yet. She shifts imperceptivily in her seat. Her hips roll forward essentially reaching for me. I look away as I'm going to need to concentrate.
"Ok. I'm going to get up now."
"Get up." Redundent but it gave him something to say I suppose.
I stand very slowly to my full height. Slowly enough that her victim decides I'm afraid and goes to push me. Two flat palms press at my shoulders. My hand releases the beer which lands at his feet causing him to step back unsteadily. It's enough.
I step forward and bring my knee up and into his crotch. There is a loud cough as the air, bravado, and some of the drunk go out of him. I drive the knee higher that necessary and he leans forward grabbing at me hoping for support. I step back as he heads down. On one knee in front of me I look can past him now.
She's looking at me. Her lips glisten and her eyes are two night skyes. Her hands are rest easily. One at her hip the other innoucuously at her right breast.
I don't raise the other bottle high. Only high enough. The bottle breaks, the victim lies down. She stands drops a fifty on the bar and walks out of the bar in front of me. She doesn't say a word. She simply heads to the car and gets in the passenger side. I see two men who had been with the other guy watch more amused then aware. I get to the car and start driving.
We haven't said a word. I know the what and the why it's all down to the where and when now.
In a voice huskier than normal and with just as much force of will as before she whispers a deafening:
"Pull over here."
And I did.
So.... Thoughts?
The light were low and the music was more a lusty cry in the far corner of the bar that night. She had brought me along in the fashion of a dare. I would be pushed to drink too much, say the wrong thing, make her mad, make him mad, get in a fight. I knew that was her plan- but those legs and that skirt was too good a bait and I gladly followed her. The skirt was white breezy, the legs were the cinnamon mocha cream color that she knew I had dreamt about. That's why she wore the skirt.
"Why did you want to come here?"
"I didn't. But I knew you didn't. Are you nervous?"
"Not really."
Maybe that was the wrong answer but I'm fair to sure she wanted me to get in trouble tonight and the easiest way was for me to make her mad. To not give her what she wanted.
She always got what she wanted.
First thing first: a round or two of Red stripe beer. It's like water to me by now but I don't let her know that. I let her think drinking isn't what gets me home at night. I make the face. I look confused at the bottle and I pick the label as if I'm avoiding my second. My third.
She smokes. Camels. Only Camels.
She gets more looks than she meant to- of course there couldn't be too many. Her body a tightly coiled spring almost glowing with heat sits across from me. Her legs get the attention first. Smooth and warm to the pallette. Her eyes locked on me she slowly does that same dance step every woman in a skirt with a good pair knows and every eye in the bar is one her.
It's time. She thinks she saw him first. He's got an insufferable sports logo on a baseball cap, cargo shorts, and a polo shirt. He's the perfect type for this sort of thing. My 'test' drinks light beer. At least, I'm not going to feel too broken up about this.
"Hey." He manages to slur.
"Hi." Her voice has no accent- only an impish eagerness.
"You here alone"
"Kind of- this guy won't leave me alone"
I smile as pleasantly as I can. I'm not good at smiling.
"Hey, you gotta go, dude."
"I"m fine, thanks."
He's confident. I'm not the kind of guy he's got to worry about. And I'm probably drunk which will only make me easier. I'm chiefly disappointed. I was sure she was going to make this hard for me. He's big enough but he's not a real danger. So, I start slow.
"She's been drinking. She's kidding."
"I think she likes me better."
"I do." He eyes are two pools of shine and darkness.
"Well, I'm not leaving. I was here first. And I'm done done with my drink."
"You think I can't make you leave, man?"
She's staring at me now. She slowly sits back in her chair. She lets her back arch setting her head back against the chair. Her legs splay slightly. The bait of having her legs crossed isn't necessary now. Her knees seperate as far as they can. The length of the skirt is enough to keep the any modesty even if doesn't care too.
"I think you're going to spill my beer." I lean forward and take a sip.
He steps back to give me room. I sip again very slowly. I maintain eye contact as he tries to remember how to hit me. I look to her briefly before standing. Her eyes are telling but in a language she hasn't taught me yet. She shifts imperceptivily in her seat. Her hips roll forward essentially reaching for me. I look away as I'm going to need to concentrate.
"Ok. I'm going to get up now."
"Get up." Redundent but it gave him something to say I suppose.
I stand very slowly to my full height. Slowly enough that her victim decides I'm afraid and goes to push me. Two flat palms press at my shoulders. My hand releases the beer which lands at his feet causing him to step back unsteadily. It's enough.
I step forward and bring my knee up and into his crotch. There is a loud cough as the air, bravado, and some of the drunk go out of him. I drive the knee higher that necessary and he leans forward grabbing at me hoping for support. I step back as he heads down. On one knee in front of me I look can past him now.
She's looking at me. Her lips glisten and her eyes are two night skyes. Her hands are rest easily. One at her hip the other innoucuously at her right breast.
I don't raise the other bottle high. Only high enough. The bottle breaks, the victim lies down. She stands drops a fifty on the bar and walks out of the bar in front of me. She doesn't say a word. She simply heads to the car and gets in the passenger side. I see two men who had been with the other guy watch more amused then aware. I get to the car and start driving.
We haven't said a word. I know the what and the why it's all down to the where and when now.
In a voice huskier than normal and with just as much force of will as before she whispers a deafening:
"Pull over here."
And I did.
So.... Thoughts?