She was clearly drunk—so drunk that her words were slurred. She had hair that was blonde and as fake as her surgically enhanced tits. Her push-up bra lifted them so much they almost popped out of her dress. She would probably be fun. She looked like the type that would suck my cock and let me fuck her in the ass, but it would matter less to her than it mattered to
me. I used to go home with easy girls like her, but I no longer had the patience that. I looked at her friends and they smiled, waving towards me. They were all just like her—so much like her that it looked like someone cloned her and just started changing hair colors.
“Sorry, I’m waiting on someone.” I held up my hand and tapped my wedding band.
“I don’t care if you’re married.” She smiled and reached for my hand.
“I do.” I pulled my hand away at the last second. “Sorry.”
Have you ever heard of a man wearing a fake wedding band to keep women away? I picked up that trick after having it used on me a couple of times. It was just a tool at my disposal. I usually slipped it off and tossed it on the ground before I made my move. I had dozens of them at home in a drawer. I used to put them in my pocket, but I had one fall out right before I got my cock sucked once and learned my lesson. Occasionally, I kept it on and told the story of a tragic divorce and an inability to remove it. That wasn’t a complete lie, even if my marriage had ended nearly five years earlier.
The blonde that tried to seduce me finally gave up and headed back to her group of fem-bots.
“Another drink.” I stared at the crowd and sighed when I pushed my glass towards Steve.
“Right away, Mr. Martin.” I didn’t wait to see if he broke his previous record. I really didn’t care. I had enough booze in me for one evening but I needed to be holding something besides an empty glass.
And there she was.
She lingered at the back of a group of twenty-somethings. She only smiled when someone was looking at her. The instant they looked away, her face retreated to the natural discomfort she was in. She had dark brown hair falling down her shoulders and around her arms. Her dress was so skin tight she constantly shifted and tugged at it. She didn’t buy that dress. She didn’t own that dress. Someone in the group had convinced her to go out with them and loaned it to her. When the waiter brought shots, everyone downed them enthusiastically except her. She took a sip and then held it down by her waist. When the moment allowed, she sat it on a nearby table and walked away.
I had to have her.
She was a good girl. She didn’t know what it was like to ride the cock carousel with a different partner in her bed every time she put liquor to her lips. If I had a fetish, she was exactly what turned me on. I picked up my drink and walked towards her. Her tits were so natural and perfect. They were big enough for me to squeeze, but not big enough to knock her teeth out when I made the bed quake. Her ass might as well have been drawn on her perfect form. An artist would have struggled to draw or sculpt one so perfect without having her right there to serve as the model. When I got closer, I tilted my head to avoid eye contact with her friends. I had to charm her before they tried to talk her out of it.
“Hi, I’m Max—short for Maxwell, but please don’t call me that.” I extended my hand and she nearly jumped out of her sky-high heels when she realized I was speaking to her.
“Uh. Oh.” She turned towards me and blinked a couple of times. “I’m Abby. Are you looking for one of my friends?”
“No.” I flashed her the million-dollar smile—well, I guess it was a billion-dollar smile if you wanted to put a price on it. “I came over here to talk to you.”
Chapter 2: Abby
A few hours earlier
“Abby, come on, it’s Saturday night!” My best friend, Mary-Katherine, was standing in my kitchen with a dress in each hand. “Are you really just going to spend another weekend at home watching movies with your cat?”
“Sebastian likes it when we spend a quiet weekend at home.” I grabbed the orange tabby from the floor and hauled him up into my arms, speaking to him in a baby voice. “Don’t you, Sebastian?”
Sebastian tolerated my attention for a couple of seconds before flipping over and jumping out of my arms. He scurried upstairs as Mary-Katherine extended one dress and shook it at me before doing the same with the other. I hadn’t been out in over a year but the club scene just didn’t do it for me. It was fine when I was in college and had a group of friends to go out with, but doing it as an adult was just annoying. The music was too loud, the drinks were too expensive, and none of the guys ever talked to me anyway.
“Which one is it going to be, Abby?” She held the dresses side by side. “Choose one.”
“You’re really going to make me do this?” I rolled my eyes and sighed.
“Yes, because eventually Rolando is going to propose to me and then I’ll be a barefoot pregnant wife who can’t go out when I want to. There’s a group of girls from work going out tonight, so we won’t be alone. You should wear this dress.” She tossed the blue dress on the table and handed me the emerald green one. “Come on, it’ll be just like college.”
That was what I was afraid of.
“Fine, but only because I know it won’t be exactly like college. You won’t hook up with someone and leave me to find my own ride home.” I took the dress from her and held it up to my body.
“That happened one time...” She wrinkled her nose and pondered what I said. “Maybe twice...”
“What time are you picking me up?” I ignored the fact she was clearly forgetting numerous other times in her attempt to gloss over history and rewrite it in her favor.
“Nobody drives anymore, silly.” She shook her head back and forth. “Get an Uber and meet me there at seven.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” I walked to the door and opened it, giving her a rather clear indication it was time for her to go.