“Yeah, okay, Doc.”
“I’m serious, Glenn. Next time we might not be so lucky.”
Glenn gave me one of those looks that indicated he had all the right answers and maybe I should just shut up and take a trip to hell. He was lucky Stuttgart’s didn’t fire him for not paying more thorough attention.
***
The wonderful package from April greeted me at the door of my apartment. I couldn’t wait to see what ridiculous outfits she’d come up with for us to wear. When I opened the box, my breath caught.
Oh. No. She. Did. Not.
My tank top said Available for Rent for Cheap Beer, and the black skirt was so small I was certain it would barely cover my ass. Just fuckin’ great. The box included a tiara, pink boa, and pink hair chalk. We were going to look like a bunch of cheap bimbos or whores let out of the closet.
With my outfit displayed on the bed, I snapped a photo and sent it to Sara, one of our friends, and asked her to send me a photo of hers. When it came through, I let out a gasp as I read I got a hall pass, but don’t tell my husband.
Quickly, my phone rang. “Are you seriously going to wear that? Did you show it to Mark?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief, though Sara couldn’t hear my marbles rattle.
“He’s fine with it. Look, it’s all in fun. Don’t be so uptight about all of this. What’s really the problem or do I have to ask?”
“I don’t want someone to see me in that getup or taking photos of me that could end up on Facebook or Twitter. My partners would have a fit.”
“This isn’t about work. It’s about Scott. Why don’t you just admit it? You haven’t seen anyone or gotten laid since, have you?”
“That’s none of your damn business.” I huffed. She was right, but the world did not need to know the intimate secrets of my non-sex life.
“It was always my business before. Look, wear the outfit and have fun. For God’s sake, let your hair down and enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
With a glass of wine, I scoped out the contents of the box and came to the conclusion that maybe it could be okay after all, but it was going to take more than one glass of Chardonnay to convince me I would have any fun.
***
Overnight, I made the decision to turn the table on April, have fun with the situation, and try my best not ruin it for her. I made two stops after work, the first to pick up a bottle of my favorite Tequila, and the second to pick up a bottle of pink hair color—the kind that washes out.
If she wants us to wear ridiculous garb, who says I can’t personalize my look?
I pulled out an old pair of stiletto ankle boots to compliment my Ho outfit and downed three shots of Tequila to get my courage up. By the time the limo arrived, I was feeling fine and the rest of the world could go to hell.
When the driver opened the door, I was surprised to see April and Sara already in the limo.
“What the hell? The schedule said I was first?” I asked, handing my bottle and purse to Sara, so I could climb in.
“I thought you might chicken out, so I tricked it up and brought reinforcement. What the fuck happened to your hair?” Sara exclaimed.
“It’s my party do. You don’t like it? Don’t worry, it’ll wash out.”
“How many shots did it take to get the courage to turn that gorgeous blonde hair to pink?” April teased me.
“Whatever is missing from that bottle,” I slurred.
The limo made a few more stops and picked up the rest of our party. We were a sight walking in to Henera’s for dinner. Everyone in the place turned and stared as we were led to the private room, which of course, had to be in the back. I was certain we didn’t appear anywhere close to a Sunday school convention, and I worried someone would mistake us for the Street-Corner Chicks in Training.
I laughed out loud at all the comments on our shirts. It really was meant in fun, and April had planned each one of them to meet our personalities. She didn’t leave herself out of it either. Her shirt said Buy me a drink and talk dirty to me. I won’t remember it in the morning, so your secret is safe with me.
By the time we made it to Moody’s, I was feeling no pain and had lost all of my inhibitions about going. That was until I saw him…
Chapter 3
Flynn
Checking my voicemail after work, I heard, “Hey, Dude. Call me back. I need to know what time your flight gets in. We all got a kitchen pass and plan on going out tonight. You’re going whether you want to or not. I talked to Connie and she cleared your calendar.”
It was my best friend, Drew Murphy. He was a general contractor in our family construction business, and I’d known him practically my whole life.
“You harassing my assistant again?” I asked into the phone.
“Nope. I wink at her and she loves me. Not harassment. When ya getting’ in?” Drew jokingly snapped back.
“Six-thirty. Why?”
“You know why. We’re all going out tonight. You need to go out. It’s been months.”
“Nah, man, I’m not into it.”
“Dude, seriously. It’s been what—eight months since you and Courtney bit the dust? I’ll throw down a Benjamin that you don’t have the balls to pick up a girl tonight,” he said with a cocky laugh.
“All right fine, make it two, and I’ll take that bet.”
“Two hundred and I get to pick the girl.”
“Deal.”
As luck would have it, my flight was late. I made it home just in time to jump in the shower and throw on some jeans, loafers, and a white dress shirt. My usual uniform. I had a closet full of identical clothes.
I should have grabbed dinner on the plane. Liquor and me weren’t friends if I didn’t eat first.
I was the last of our group to arrive at Moody’s, and the guys were well into the first game of pool. When Allen threw down two hundred bucks on the bar table and stared at me with a half-cocked grin, I knew Drew had let him in on the bet.
“Am I the only topic of conversation today?” I asked.
“No dude, not you, the little tart that we’re gonna pick out for you,” Drew said in laughter.
We shot a few rounds of pool before going downstairs to eat. I loved playing pool and hanging out with the guys at Moody’s, but their food was awful. I looked at the greasy wings and could only imagine half of that shit ending up on my white shirt. No, thanks. I passed.
We’d been downstairs about an hour before heading back to our game. Allen was the first guy up the stairs and started grumbling and swearing like a sailor. All I could make out was “Somebody had a fuckin’ pink feather fart up here.”
The stairs roared in male-harmonious laughter.
We all climbed the stairs and formed a line up against the dark mahogany wall. There were pink feather thingies and bachelorette signs everywhere. Somebody named April was getting married, and a bunch of women dressed like flamingoes had flown in and invaded our manly space in the poolroom of Moody’s bar.
When Marlee, our waitress, came upstairs, I stopped her.
“What the hell happened? Who’s April?” I asked, while Drew, Allen, and Kai stood by ready to do battle.
“April Davenport has been coming here since she was old enough to drink. She’s getting married, and her posse is having her party here. Relax, the pink won’t kill ya.”
“Dude, say hello to your pussy for the night,” Drew said.
All the guys laughed with him.
“Shut the fuck up, Drew.” I shook my finger in his face. This was not at all what I’d had in mind. In fact, the only thing I wanted to do was get in my car and go home.
“Relax, bro, it’s all in fun. You can get outta the bet, just say the word,” Allen chimed in.
“No, I’m in. Because if I’m not, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
***
Six girls climbed the stairs and filed in one by one. We watched as they pranced and wobbled, obviously already intoxicated and each one of them wearing a ridiculous o
utfit some fool put together. I tried to read their shirts, but they stayed too huddled together for me to make out what they said.
It wasn’t long before Drew and Allen started going eeny-meeny-miney-mo for which one I would be stuck with. I waited to hear my fate.
“The one with the pink hair,” I heard Drew say to Allen.
Allen nodded yes.
All I could see was a pink ponytail swooshing back and forth as the owner of the exotic hair spoke to the girl to her immediate left beside the edge of the pool table, directly in front of me. My eyes darted to the short black skirt she had on. Nice ass, I thought to myself.
I threw back my shoulders and tried hard to take on a look of charisma, although Ms. Pinkhair didn’t seem to be the least bit interested. As she played her game of pool with her friends, I watched her. She was a petite little thing with muscular legs, curvy hips, and perfect breasts that would fit my hands nicely. If her skirt was an inch shorter, she would’ve shown the world, including me, whether or not she was wearing anything under it, and the betting man that I was, my take was that she was commando.
Drew and I were taking our turn out and sitting on some stools against the wall. Ms. Pinkhair was taking her shot and backed right into me. When she turned to apologize, her feet tangled with mine, and she stumbled into my arms.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have a back-up camera installed,” she said in between her giggles.
“Not a problem. Happy to catch you,” I uttered.
I stood her back on her wobbly legs, and when her big blue eyes met mine, there was a connection. She returned to her game, but from that moment on, I never thought about her pink ponytail again. She became Blue Eyes to me.
My cock hardened at the idea of taking her home, regardless about making good on the bet. I began to flirt with her and through mini bits of conversation between the two groups, soon discovered she was the only one in the bunch who was single. Thank God I wasn’t going to have a jealous husband beating down my door.
Player, I was. Home-wrecker, no way, not my style.
I challenged her to a game of pool. Our groups stood back and watched as the little tart played me and beat me. The crowd roared. Finally, after constant begging, she told me her name was Monique. I noticed when she said it that the girls looked at each other and shrugged, but I didn’t have a clue what that body language meant.
“Play me again, and if I win, you have to dance with me.”
“I don’t dance,” she said.
“Then be sure to not lose,” I teased her.
She took the bet, and this time, I played my very best game of pool. It was a battle to the end, but I finally beat her. She took the loss well and grabbed my hand to lead me downstairs amidst the whoop and hollers of the guys—as well as girls.
We went to the jukebox, and I handed her quarters from my pocket.
“Make it a slow one, will ya?” I begged.
Sweet Home Alabama, Lynard Skynard
So much for slow, but we had fun. She made good on my request because the next two songs that came up gave me time to breathe and what a breath it was of her delicate scent.
Drive, by The Cars
Everybody Hurts, R.E.M.
I found the words to the songs she chose interesting. In her drunken state, she was admitting to her own relationship issues, I was sure of it. We danced to several songs, and it wasn’t long before she melted into me. Her rosy lips were there for the taking, and I couldn’t control myself. When my lips made contact with hers, they were like velvet.
“I have a limo outside, let’s get out of here,” she whispered against my lips.
“I have a car outside.”
“You’re too far gone to drive. Limo.” She stood firm and crossed her arms. Like she had room to talk.
“Fine, I’ll get my car tomorrow. Let’s go to my place.”
She whispered something to her friends and then dragged me by the hand out the back door. I looked over my shoulder in Drew’s direction in time to see him give a thumbs-up.
I gave the limo driver my address. He said he had a crew who could bring me my car for a hundred bucks, so I tossed him the keys and handed him some cash before sliding into the back with Monique.
I’d had sex in a limo, but it had been years. We were all over each other. She straddled my hips with no inhibitions. All I could think about was throwing her under me on the seat, but I didn’t have a condom with me. As frisky as this little filly was, she had to wait until we got to my house. It was a clear case of who wanted to fuck who.
I slid my hand up her skirt to a smooth, round ass and felt the small string of her thong. I couldn’t wait to slip it off and get inside her. I thought about the mental bet I’d made with myself that she would’ve been commando under the skirt. Strike one for me.
She kissed me hard on the mouth and finished it off with a soft bite of my lips. My cock twitched between us. I nudged her backwards enough to un-tuck my shirt, hoping the driver wouldn’t have a good laugh at my hard-on when I stepped out of the car.
The moment we pulled into the drive, I realized I didn’t have a house key or a remote for the garage. Just my fucking luck. I hoped the housekeeper had left her key in the lockbox by the front door, or we were going to be up shit creek without a paddle.
The lockbox was empty. Damn. The night was getting more interesting by the second. Then I remembered I’d put a spare key under the grill for my nephew who was always locking himself out when he came to visit.
Monique was giggling like crazy, and I was grateful I didn’t have a neighbor close by or she would’ve disturbed their peace for sure. Unable to walk well in her shoes, I finally picked her up and carried her through the fence to the backyard.
“Are we breaking in?” She laughed and then she snorted. I think she could’ve gotten arrested and wouldn’t have cared at that moment, she was obviously feeling no pain.
It was so dark I could barely see and had to feel my way, so I sat her down on the counter beside the grill.
Bingo. I scored.
I unlocked the door and typed in the reset for the alarm before going back outside for her.
I carried Monique into the living room amidst her pleas to put her down, so I let her go on the sofa. She used my shirt to pull me closer towards her. Our tongues entwined, and our breaths were heavy. She was all over me, begging for it.
I rose up from her and removed her shoes. She slipped off her T-shirt, revealing delicious curves spilling from her bra. Her blue eyes continued to twinkle in the light of the lamp. With her lips rosy and puffed from kissing me all the way home, she had that mussed up look that whispered fuck me.
I stood and pulled her upright by her hands. Continuing to hold one, I led her to my bedroom where she stood beside my bed, chewing her lower lip. She was smokin’ hot, pink hair and all, but the blue eyes had my attention.
She trailed kisses from my jaw down my chest as she unbuttoned and removed my shirt. When she came to my jeans, she went to her knees. While I welcomed a blowjob any day of the week, the idea of having her lips around my cock almost had me coming in my jeans.
“Not yet, baby,” I groaned.
I needed to fuck her. I needed to pound my cock into her pussy. I wanted to taste her and know she was as sweet as I was imagining. With her hand in mine, I pulled her from the floor and lifted her chin with my finger.
“What do you want?” I asked her.
Her eyes bounced from mine, back and forth. She took her time in answering.
“You. All of you. Make me remember what it feels like to be a woman.”
I was curious who’d mistreated this little luxury, but his loss was my gain.
Her skirt hit the floor, followed by pink lacy panties and matching bra. Her body was curvy and beautiful and felt wonderful in my hands as I guided her backwards on the bed.
Out of my jeans and hovering above her, she reached for my face and pulled our heads together. Her kisses were hungry and leading. Whether ve
rbally or with physical expression, I loved it when a woman would ask for what she wanted. I trailed my tongue down her neck and nibbled at her perky nipples, hard just for me. When I got to the piercing in her belly button, my cock throbbed. Fuck, yeah, this girl was a turn on.
She moaned as my mouth searched lower, and when I found paradise between her thighs, she went wild. I craved having a responsive lover, and she did not disappoint.
She tasted sweet as honey, and I couldn’t control my tongue, savoring every drop of her. When she came on my fingers inside her, the cries she emitted were both sexy and close to animalistic. It was almost my undoing.
I found a box of condoms in the drawer and prayed they were still in date; it’d been a while. With my cock sleeved, I slowly pushed at her entrance, but she was tight. I sure didn’t mind working for it. As I pushed harder, her eyes went wide.
No fuckin’ way this girl was a virgin. Nah, couldn’t be.
“Please tell me this is not your first time.” My body frozen, waiting for her response.
She shook her head no then watched me like a caged animal. “Just been a long time,” she whispered with the look of embarrassment.
I couldn’t continue. Something inside me just said it was wrong. Call it moral compass in action. I didn’t even know her last name or anything about her. Okay, I’ll admit that those factors hadn’t stopped me in the past, but Monique was very intoxicated and clearly not firing with all chambers. She knew nothing about me.
I moved from above her and slipped the condom off before pulling her close to me. “You’re hot and definitely have me worked up, but I can’t take advantage of gal who’s not sober.”
“I’m sober.” She laughed.
“Yeah, right. Let’s see how you feel in the morning.” I dragged my fingers up and down her arm. She fit up next to me perfectly, and it felt good to hold a woman again.
We talked for no longer than five minutes, and then she was out. I heard my golden retriever, Simon, bark at the door and figured it was just the guys delivering the car. I didn’t even bother to get up, not wanting to disturb the pink princess in my arms.
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