They say climax to lovemaking is like dying a little death. In the space of one night, I could specifically say that I died a thousand deaths. We met at a charity event for the homeless and while the master of ceremonies kept going on in his drone-like voice about how bad these people were suffering and how much they needed our “help”, my long shapely legs that could put any model to shame found their way to the open bar.
“Double scotch on the rocks please,” I said to the bartender. I was not all that aware of my surroundings so it explained that I missed the Greek Adonis sitting by the bar with two other friends but my order was enough to have him insinuate I was a drunk just because most women went for drinks more subtle and feminine. I bristled at this and turned to them, replying him in a very sarcastic and taut voice saying,
“Don’t let my soft looks fool you after all having long legs and a sexy body fool you doesn’t mean I can’t handle my drinks.” I took a sip of my drink which had just arrived and added, “I am more manly than you could ever be.” shooting daggers at him with my eyes. That was the beginning of our banter.
He left his group of friends and moved his stool closer to mine.
“No offence meant me lady.”