Hard Rain (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2

Seeley's was your average small town dive with a flickering neon sign out front and a blast of cigarette smoke as you entered the front door.  At any given time, you could walk in and see at least a dozen of the same people sharing the same stories over the same drinks.  My life wasn't much more exciting, but I usually prefer quiet solitude rather than the din of music and conversation in a bar.  Today was a bit different, however.  One can only take so much solitude before you start feeling like the only person left on the planet, so I thought I’d try some social exposure.

I took a seat up at the bar and ordered a glass of whiskey.  Jack Daniels is my favorite, and I usually started with that and switched to something cheaper after I felt it course through my veins.

The bartender was making polite small talk with the other patrons.  She must have noticed that I was just sipping my drink and keeping to myself, but her attempt at making small talk with me didn't amount to much.  I wasn't in the mood to run my mouth.  I did, however, take the liberty of undressing her with my eyes while I enjoyed my beverage.

She had a great ass and a tight shirt that accentuated her breasts - the perfect outfit for maximizing her bar tips.  She was the wife of the owner, so I found myself glancing around for him every time I stole a peek down her shirt as she bent down for ice.

It’s difficult to explain, but women have a texture to their breasts that makes every man want to suck on them like an ice cream cone.  I suppose “suck” is a vulgar term, so it’s more like gentle licks with the tip of the tongue until you decide to grab hold and own it.  Anyway you perceive it, it still sound dirty.

After about forty-five minutes and three drinks, I decided that the boredom of a bar was no better than the boredom of home, so I stood up from my bar stool and wandered into the restroom.  The restrooms in bars are a good source of entertainment, with graffiti to read and conversations to eavesdrop upon.  Two guys were standing at the urinals next to me, discussing their strategy for bedding the women they had met out in the bar.  I laughed to myself listening to such juvenile conversations.

On the way out the door, someone caught my eye - a girl I used to know from long ago.  We had gone to high school together, but lost touch as we both went off to college.  The years had treated her well.  She looked even better than I remember.  Long brown hair, tight shirt and thighs that I could imagine grappling, sliding my hands from the crooks of her knees to her...well, you get the picture.

A gentlemen stepped out of my way, allowing our eyes to meet.

"Lauren?"  As I spoke her name, she tilted her head.  Her eyes brightened as she realized who I was.

"Hi Danny," she stood up and hugged me.  "Oh my god, I haven't seen you in years."

"Yeah, you look great," I said.

Lauren was wearing a tight blouse, unbuttoned just enough to offer a glimpse of her tan cleavage.  I tried my best not to let my eyes wander below her face, but the texture of her skin still looked inviting.  Picture a cartoon where I could only see ice cream cones, but I snapped myself out of the idea of sinking my lips where they weren’t invited.  Call it my own personal mental slap in the face.

I was lost for words.

"Well hey, I don't want to bother you," I said, "I just had to say hello."

There were a few other people at her table, two women and some other guy.  I wondered if the guy was her boyfriend, but his lack of interest in our conversation was a good indicator that he was there with one of the other girls.

"No no, you're not a bother," she retorted.  "We're just chatting.  I get together with these guys all the time."

We sat down and began reminiscing about the past and catching up on what we've been doing over the past ten years.  Maybe I'm an asshole, but I wasn't terribly interested in her story.  In my mind, it was just an obligatory conversation that would hopefully lead to sex.

She didn’t have the “perfect” body, but something about the way she carried herself was enough to arouse my attention.  We were never intimate in high school.  That was an awkward age where every guy was trying to get some and every girl was saving herself for Mr. Right.  High school sex is like a conquest, but there are always strings attached.  I never had a steady girlfriend back then because I couldn't deal with the drama.  These days I was different, although despite my best efforts, the drama still seemed to follow me around.

After about an hour, Lauren's friends said their goodbyes and left us alone in an awkward moment.

"I should get going too," she said.  The tone in her voice was difficult to read.  I couldn't tell if she really did need to leave, but our conversation had trailed off into silly small talk.  I sat and looked at her for a moment while her eyes jolted around.

There was obvious sexual tension between us.  Her body language told the tale of a woman who enjoyed life and liked to have fun, but there was something else about her that I couldn’t explain.  Each time she leaned forward, I felt like leaping across the table, but I knew I needed to behave like a gentleman.

In hopes of sounding romantic, I could see my own reflection in her eyes, but admittedly, I’m a guy, and the way she was looking at me was giving me a partial erection.  While she didn’t have the perfect body, she was perfectly proportioned - breasts, waist, legs - all perfect for a girl who could be lifted and pushed against the wall (just not for very long).  Still, I imagined grabbing her by the hair and tasting the salt of her neck.  It made me feel despicable, but ravenous at the same time.

“Are you okay?” she asked.  As my fantasy quickly snapped, I realized my mind had been trailing.

"Yeah, sorry.  Can I walk you home?" I asked.

She paused for a moment before answering.

"I have to be completely honest with you," she confessed.  "I'm seeing someone."

My disappointment must have been obvious, because she quickly clarified her statement.

"I live with her," she explained.

My eyes and ears suddenly perked up, but I attempted to play it off as surprise rather than excitement.  She has a girlfriend!?  My mind began racing with all kinds of dirty thoughts.  She saw right through it though.

"Yes,” she stated.  “I don’t admit that to many people, but it’s usually obvious enough. It’s nothing serious, but I'm letting her stay with me until she gets her own place, and we’re enjoying ourselves in the meantime."

To put it simply, I was taken back a bit.  How do you respond to a statement like that?  Normally I play the diplomatic, politically-correct role, but in this case, all I could conjure up was a dumbfounded “oh...okay”.