“Can’t believe I didn’t have a chance to run home before you guys bombarded me to go out tonight…I’m stuck in dress clothes, shirt, tie, slacks, oxfords, the whole 9 yards and you jerks are casual,” I said to my buddies as we stepped on the elevator.
“Overdressed and overeager,” chimed in a winking gray-haired man as the elevator doors swung full open. The group broke out in laughter. I broke out in red face.
“God damnit, why am I so fucking loud?” I asked myself under breath as I found myself in the corner of the lift. Doors closing, slowly rolling up to the 9th floor.
I stepped off, bewildered at how beautiful this place was. Floor to ceiling 12 foot windows; clear views of the summer city night skyline glimmering like the star washed water I saw last year at the lake house; chrome adorned fabrications everywhere I looked; sexy souls searching for something crammed in every corner to vie for another. “This just might be okay,” I thought.
“Hey boys,” I heard from behind, bringing me back from the momentary gushing and spinning me around on my heels. A group of young delicate young women skirted onto the elevator, one cheekily smiling as she said “have some fun tonight.” I guess I’ll try, I need a drink.
We paraded into the massive penthouse common room, the lighting set delicately to evoke an emotive ambiance, everyone chatting closely to one another because it was so damn loud, and warm that way you can only feel in the air conditioned throngs of the heart of summer.
“Who do we even know that lives here?” I asked my friend, well yelled in his ear.
“You look like you own the place with that outfit,” he yelled back forcing himself to hold in the heavy laugh he was brewing for his own joke. I shook my head and turned to find the bar – it was definitely time for a drink.
Weaving my way between about 37 people I had never met, stealing a glance or two from a woman who was clearly questioning my attire from behind the straw of her drink while nodding to their partner without actually listening, I finally reached the bar set up just for this party. “Damn whoever is throwing this thing even sprung for a full bar.”
“What can I get you?” the tender asked, with a tone revealing he knew I could use something to take away the edge. “Vodka martini, whatever you’ve got handy, rocks, with a twist.” He nodded back and I suddenly felt you nearing. I didn’t know you’d be here, but I guess in the depths of my dreams I had hoped you would be.
I felt your arm wrap gently around my back and grab my far elbow, conspicuously pulling yourself in close.
“That was quite the order, but I guess the clothes come with sophisticated taste,” you said, biting your bottom lip as the words ran out.
I turned my head towards you, quickly glanced down, revealing the cleavage you strategically planned before heading out this evening, and then up to your eyes – “Hey stranger, it’s been a minute. Didn’t expect to cross paths with you tonight.” (Or ever again, when was it last? 3 years?). I reached my arm around your shoulders and pulled you in assertively.
We stood there next to the bar for a moment that felt longer than it was, eyes met intently. Mimicking you, I softly bit my bottom lip. A smile came across both of our faces – we knew at that moment. The bar tender brought me my drink as you grabbed my fingers and pulled. Not yet moving, I took a deep gulp and watched you as you walked away, our hands falling in synchrony as the space between us built like the tension.
Your legs in that skirt.
I shook my head in satisfaction and set off to follow you through the crowd. You made your way to the stairwell in the back corner, with the bright red fire sign illuminated aver the door, pushed it open and snuck out without the slightest bit of apprehension. I took one more large drink, finishing most, set my glass on the tray next to the door and rushed through.
I stepped through the doorway – there you were on the ascending stairs, bent over, skirt hiked up to your hips revealing your glorious white thong-clad ass, your head and hair pulled back, your lower back arched, your legs straight and spread to reveal the musculature accentuated by the heels you also strategically selected for the evening, and hints of all the glorious places of your body barely hidden behind the bits of your thong. The beauty of the penthouse we just left was no match.
“Daddy,” you said shakily, “I’ve missed you.”
To be continued?
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/trym6q/vodka_martini_whatever_youve_got_handy_rocks_with
First timer – if I failed to label correctly, please kindly let me know. Needed an outlet, hoping this is it. Thanks!