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“Hey! Girls night! We haven’t chilled in a minute! You ARE going out tonight with us, right?” Giggling.

“God, girl! YES! This week has kicked my ass. I need a night out. Who else is coming?” One of my best friends, both of us currently single is on the phone. Her, freshly divorced and myself a booty call on tap but no boyfriend labeling. No time. Our lives are busy and full. We hang out whenever we can and its always a blast. I’m so glad she called me. The nights adventures are going to be epic.

“So far, Melissa, me, you. Dana might show up later on. She’s working a late shift. Oh, and Jess won’t be coming out. She’s up her mans’ butt. You know how that goes.” Plans laid out for the evening… a succession of club hopping, cocktails and dance floors. Ending the call with the smack of a kiss and a ‘see you at 9’ I immediately think of everything I need to do before the festivities begin. Including a little shopping for a new outfit to wear. I deserve it. Work hard, play harder. Right?

One hour before meet up. Standing in front of my full length mirror critically examining myself. Not too shabby, doll. The new ass hugging slacks do my rear end justice. A plunging V necked top shows just enough cleavage to say yes, they’re here and yes they’re real without screaming ‘Oh my gawd! Slut it up much?!’

Finishing touches. Complimentary jewelry. Good hair and makeup day. A brand new pair of three inch heeled knee high boots tie everything together. Creating a stunning image staring back at me. Every once in a while there is that singular moment, the one where you let go of everything. You pat yourself on the back and allow yourself to see what others see. I’d fuck me. In the spirit of keeping it kitten, I smile slyly, slowly. Blowing myself a kiss. I head for the door. Party on.

Car doors slamming. Whoops and yells loud in a crowded parking garage downtown. The masses ready to shake of the work week, ready to let loose. Three of us looking at each other laughing. Making small talk as we walk towards the clubs door. A “hey baby!…” from somewhere off to the left. Ignoring the peacock already trying to pull game. Smoothly we enter and saddle up for the initial injection. Shots and drinks to jump start the atmosphere. Welcome to girls night.

Old school bumping flows out of an enormous PA system. Laughter. Good friends, this is what it is about. True to form we pepper drinks in between grind sessions on the floor. Mixing it up. Enjoying the feel of Friday night.

Club number two. I have that cocky buzz going on. I feel omnipotent. Just my girl and I now, Melissa leaving. Sitter issues. So we wish her well, kiss her cheeks and see her off safely. A series of texts tell us we are on our own. No one else can come out to play.

Vibrations. The DJ is pulling out every trick in the book. Moving. Grinding. Switching partners. Around we spin, melodically. Seamlessly gliding. Feeling the wave of people, the undercurrent. Allowing ourselves to be part of an ocean. Sexually charged hands, hips and feet. Thumping beats.

Flicking her tongue in my ear, I blink. Still, we move together. My hands curving her hip. Song and drink. Snap decision. And I lick my lip. Effective execution. Instinct. Forward I lean, she sways. Lips, tongues as one. Tasting her. Feeling me, she closes the gap. Body to body. Moving as one. Serpentine.

Heart stopping moment of musical silence. I am utterly lost in her eyes. Cyclone starts up, floods and crackles in our ears traveling the circuit, flipping breakers. Every nerve ending alight. Hands from breasts to ass. Urgently. Exploring each other. A collection of clubbers take us in. Caring not.

“Kiss me again.” she whispers. 

I wanted something real. I know that much. So in my search, which honestly was off and on, being so busy I’ve come up with a few standards he must meet.

First, he must be a friend. And intelligent enough to know where the lines are drawn. Second, he must have his life together. No baby mamma drama, no endless string of fruitless employment positions. He doesn’t have to be rich. Just a real man. One that takes care of his own.

I need to make it clear I don’t want a ‘boyfriend’ or a ‘husband’. I want a partner. Eventually. If things are right between us. What will be will be.

*Stopping for a moment. Flashing forward. I’m curled up on a porch swing. My head is on his chest. It’s twilight. Thing are quiet. Kids are old enough to be doing their own thing, young enough to still be at home. My hand is on his stomach. I feel his solidness. His breathing. Tilting my head our eyes lock as I slide my hand down to his jeans. Something real. I feel him stir. Growing hard. I love they way it feels when he goes from soft to hard through his pants. His eyes get that ‘oh baby’ look and his smile is a lazy one yet cocky and I know, I’ve still got it.*

My hopes are raised at the moment. Just thinking of what could be. And, the fact that I am seeing a friend again tonight. He’s not perfect. He’s real. We’ve known each other now for almost a year. Randomly hanging out. Occasionally sleeping with each other. No complications. It’s… nice.

Getting through my day, I tackle everything in it. My job. The unexpected quick run to the grocery store. The kids practices. Homework. Sibling squabbles. Laundry. Business calls sprinkled in. Calls from family, friends. Same old, same old. Evening comes and my home is quiet. I sit for a moment before texting him. I am on my way.

Relaxing on the drive, listening to my favorite CD. Blasting. Not caring about the cars next to me at the red light. Feeling that reassuring burn in my throat as I sing along to familiar lyrics that make me feel alive. Real.

He knows me too well already. As I walk in he hands me a beer and grins. His house, is also quiet now. Lights low and preselected choices for viewing. God, does he know me. Does he know this? *Shake that thought and just let if flow, I think.* Simply an understanding. We sit. We watch. We eventually end up leaning on each other. No meaningful words. No promises. Just comfortably wrapped up on the couch. Drowsing. He says “Ready for bed?”

“Yes.” I answer sleepily back. Soft feet padding back to his bedroom, a routine already. Him bathroom, setting an alarm. Me undressing, shifting covers and pillows from a space for one into a space for two.

Hard arms around me. Molding me into him. Soft kisses on my face. Shifting into urgent needs as his mouth closes over mine and his hand slides between my legs. I’m warm. I’m wet. He lightly touches me. My tongue in his mouth, teasing him.

There is no kink. Not tonight, anyway. Its me. Its him. Moving together we roll and I’m on top. Ready. Poised above him. His hands on my hips I slowly slide down, and feel him push inside me. Its real.

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Blue.

Laughing from the right. Tinkling like glass. Annoying. She’s begging “Awww… do you have to go baby?” As the cat next to her lifts off his stool. Ha! I think to myself as a drink slides my way. Good. Serves her right.

Watched her milk drinks off men for four hours. Go home alone Blue. The color of her shirt. That’s what I’ve been calling her. In my head.

Time ticks and he leaves. Shes sucking on a tiny straw. Some fruity pink drink. Nice tits. I smile. Not bad either of them, really. Her and the bartender Red.

Red and Blue have rivaling racks. Dueling racks. Red is thick. With huge breasts fighting for air under her chin and Blue is average, high and tight. Firm.

*I close my eyes for a moment and see the two of them up against each other leaning over the bar. Reds hand inside Blues shirt … Blues tongue filling Reds mouth.*

Both of them wearing tight tiny tee shirts that belong on a kid. Sluts. Nipples showing through the bra under taut cotton.

Glass empty. Time to go. Blue’s gone. Disappeared when I lost myself thinking of them together. Good. “Time for me to hit the road Red. Damage?”

Paid, pissed and out the door. Keys in hand… Blue, bent over checking out her tire. Shit.

Fuck it. “Looks like your a little flat”

“Screw you! …oh! Sorry thought you were the creep that must a drove off” I blink. Fuck this. I turn away.

“Please. Let me say I’m sorry at least.” Over my shoulder she straightens and looking sincere.

“No worries. Your flat. Gotta spare?” I say.

“…No.” No way around this. Drunk in the parking lot with the barfly. Here we go. I take her in. Up and down. Eying her and she knows it.

“Fine. Need a ride? A phone call? What?”
“A ride. Please? I don’t live too far.” Shit. This had better be worth it. Walking to my car I say “If you’re getting in. Come on.”

Blue lit a smoke and whispered a thank you.

“I’ve got your thank you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ve got your thank you.” Grinning I look at her confused face.

The confusion lingered for a moment and reality swept over her face. I smile. My cock hard against my stomach. Thighs now near her chest. She’d pulled her legs up into the seat.

“Quite compact over there. Little one. Relax.” I said, a light laugh.

“Little one?! I said thank you already, thank you again. This is me.”

Squaring her shoulders. Head raised cockiness filled her face.
Placing her feet on the floor again as I come to a stop. Her address. Reaching over she touches my arm.

All I needed. My hand from the wheel to her arm. To her face. Down. Heaving, Blues breasts wanting to be touched. Back up and hold her face firmly. My mouth on hers. That tongue of hers dipping out into my mouth. “I said earlier I’ve got your thank you. Blue. Inside.”

“Blue?”

“Yes. Blue, now in. And take everything off as you go.”

Understanding bloomed. Her shirt lifted and between us and laying atop my ride. Let her follow me. Double time and she’s in front. Breasts high and those jeans are walking themselves down tight thighs.

“Lights.” On in a breath, hand on the switch jeans pooled at her ankles. Her panties matched the lost shirt. Almost too much to wait. I feel my need. I wait. She waits. I smile. Yes.

Next to Blue. My dick hard. I look at her. As instructed. Naked. Shins, shoulders and face on the ground. Ass high. Hands behind her. In each one a nice handful of ass. Spread. Waiting.

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