Steve had been on the road all day. The rain had followed him all the way up the Motorway and now seemed intent on waiting outside this seedy little bar for him to leave. The only thing more depressing than the weather had to be the monotony of this job. After 5 years of top-level management for an international company, he was made redundant after a hostile take over. This rep job was the only thing available to keep the mortgage paid at the time and now it was dragging him down and further away from the very home he was financing. That said, there was not much to stay home for these days. Mandy had left him after the job loss and the kids had all left for gap years abroad or University placements.
So, this was how Steve Collins had come to be in a downtown bar in a strange town at 2 am. It did not however explain why she was here though.
Steve guessed that she was no more than 35 years old, maybe a good deal less but life had been a trial. The smoke, curling from the cigarette between her slender fingers, was making a soft focus haze around her, softening her sharp features. The other hand nursed a glass that, for short periods, held a drink and her gaze. Her dress carefully concealed the sagging parts of her tired body and displayed the desirable parts so that any eyes that fell upon her only saw what they were looking for and not what they were running away from. Physically, she could have been any bored middle-aged housewife under that dress but then any housewife would not be in that dress, or this bar.
The bar was not completely empty other than these two, but the other customers seemed to inhabit their own exclusive planets within the confines of their souls. Couples each huddled in little enclaves set back in the walls of the room, kissing, searching and touching as far as what passed for decency in this hovel would allow. Solitary men drowning themselves in cheap poor quality imported spirits before dragging themselves back to their homes and families for another weekend of arguments and cold meals left to go dry in long forgotten ovens. Tonight, Steve only saw her. Her long slender back, firm sleek thighs and her mane of auburn curls. Fortunately, she too had noticed him. Their eyes had met on a number of occasions as he ordered successive drinks. The bar was deserted apart from this pool hall goddess but Steve had been sure to stand almost rudely close to her when fetching his bourbon. Even against the stale dank air of the nightclub, her perfume was intoxicating. This time though, he took a chance and asked her if he could buy her a drink. His suggestion had been casual and relaxed on the surface although underneath he was shaking with nervous anticipation.
“Sure, bourbon and coke. Thanks.” Her voice was a surprise, smooth as expected but softer and much lighter than her image had implied. Steve was taken aback by the tenderness in her voice. Almost vulnerable. Her eyes caught his and time stopped for what seemed an eternity. ”So, is this place usually this lively or has the morgue been left open again?” He joked.
She struggled to conceal a smile, afraid to show any sign of a very real interest in this handsome stranger, for fear of the standard one night of frankly disappointing sex followed by total abandonment. The regular fare of the travelling salesmen that always frequented these places, drawn like seedy moths to a tainted flame. Typical salesmen, she always thought after the inevitable departure, promise you gold and deliver guilt. But this mysterious benefactor had something different about him. Something that tugged at her curiosity. Her head was screaming no but her natural inquisitiveness was winning. The smile broke free and lit up her face.
“I imagine it’s not the atmosphere that brings them here.” She replied, glancing at the depressing surrounds.
“So, to coin a crap phrase, what brings you here? “ He said, trying not to sound like a letch.
“Oh, the usual. The dazzling array of classical artwork, the world famous selection of out of date liqueurs. Of course the décor is in a league of its own. Far superior to Indian take away yet not quite Burger King”
She laughed a laugh that seemed to revel in its final long awaited escape.
The evening progressed encouragingly; his humour was black but found its truth in her recent past. The alcohol warmed them against a cold and unwelcoming night when she noticed him glance at his wristwatch.
“Do you have to go or are you counting the minutes down to dawn?” she inquired.
“Well, I’m certainly not in any rush to get back to that fleapit they call the executive suite, “he replied, looking solemn.
“Then don’t. Stay with me.” She surprised even herself with the boldness of the statement. A look at her face told Steve she did not mean stay at the bar.
“You don’t like being there and I like your company. The expenses account has already paid for the room, so they will not worry if you do not use it. Besides, we both know that at sometime we were going to end up in one bed or another.” She broke into a grin as she finished the statement, revealing what they both really did knew inside.
He smiled and picked up his coat from the adjacent seat as she rose with him and they headed for the door, his arm falling to encircle his waist and pull her closer. The joint admission relaxed them both and the taxi driver assumed they were a just another couple returning from a night out and grunted for a destination as they settled in the rear seat.
As the vehicle glided almost silently through the riddle of back streets and by roads to her home, they kissed and fumbled like a young pair of school leavers on a first date, pawing and probing with fingers and tongues, oblivious to the bumps and swerves from the road. Neither of them caring about the rest of the world for a moment, wrapped physically and mentally in each other entirely. Steve’s searching hands finding her smooth, warm flesh beneath the tight covering of her satin dress. Her lips yielding to his probing tongue and relishing his touch on her tired body. The roughness of his day old stubble against her neck, the softness of her porcelain skin under his fingertips as he discovered and teased her stiffening nipples, easing them from the confines of her underwear. He noticed with some surprise and much pleasure that the bra was unpadded, with no fleshy fillings other than her own to add depth or form to these wonderful globes. So many women of all ages these days took to ‘enhancing’ the natural form of their breasts that it was a lucky dip as to what you found beneath the sheets. As a sigh broke from her lips, Steve dipped his head to meet her rising chest as she arched her back in a combination of the received and anticipated sensations. Taking a long look, he then clamped his lips firmly around the reddening orb.
A long deep moan broke from her mouth as he sucked hungrily on her swelling button, her hands softly resting on the back of his head. His free hand searched below for her thighs, finding and stroking on her long slim limbs. The feel of a woman’s flesh under his fingers was arousing him rapidly, pressing his manhood hard against his trouser fly. He released her glistening nipple, shining in the streetlight, looking up to her flaming eyes rolling in ecstasy he parted her silken thighs and softly pressed a single digit against her moistening crotch. Feeling her give way, he pushed aside the thin layer of polyester and slid a finger just inside. Easing back, she lay along the length of the old rough leather seat and put one leg up along the top of the seat and over his shoulder as he knelt on the floor of the cab, her other leg resting a spiked heel on the seat where he had sat. His lips were now kissing and licking the route to her aromatic haven, her cleft clearly moist and glinting as each street lamp passed the window behind him. She braced herself against the bumps and jars of the journey with one hand against the dividing screen as the other fondled and teased her ripening buds, now free from their restraints and bobbing up and down with the undulations of the road. Neither of them had noticed the car stop as they gave in to the burning desires pent up inside.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the cabbie, a tall well-built and youthful man in his early thirties, watching them with intent. His head above the seat back, one hand resting on the headrest, the other unseen, possibly causing the rocking frantic motion he seemed to be making. She realized he was masturbating as they contorted in ecstasy in front of him, a free peep show as his tip for the ride. She motioned to her ardent partner and he looked over his shoulder, briefly stopping his hungry lapping. He just grinned and pushed the car door open, pulled her down to lie prone along the leather and lifted her legs around his hips as he started to drive deep into her gushing slit. She heard a click as the door above her head now opened and there stood the driver, his faded jeans open around his knees and a rigid member waving slightly as it neared her open lips. The emotions running wildly inside her now charged headlong towards total abandonment as she writhed in delirious bliss, her achingly stretched mouth sucking hard on a stranger’s swollen length and her hungry wet pussy being pounded to oblivion by her new lover’s own equally ardent cock. Time seemed to be irrelevant as they fucked and sucked away until fatigue drew them all apart and into an exhausted sleep, tucked away inside the taxi, parked far from prying eyes in a dark side street.
She awoke to the smell of sexual secretions and stale smoke, the throbbing but wickedly delicious ache inside of her causing her to stir. The driver and their surprise third wheel, was stood outside the vehicle, leaning on the bonnet and smoking a cigarette. As she rose and began to dress herself, he awoke beside her. They exchanged inappropriately coy grins of acknowledgement and remained silent as they settled back for the continuation of the journey home. The driver said nothing, barely exchanging a glance until they arrived at her apartment. He just smiled, a soft boyish smile, refused the fare they offered and drove away, an obviously happier man for the experience. The two lovers exchanged a few pleasantries, made loose promises to meet again, if they were ever close enough to do so and parted. Each of them feeling that the night would never be repeated, the chance was one in a million and their lives weren’t that lucky, but secretly longing to be proven wrong.
Steve couldn’t concentrate on very much else as the afternoon dragged by, every passing female triggering a reaction as the scent of them alerted his senses. He worked like a marionette, his mind far from the task in hand. Every so often a face in a crowd looked like hers fleetingly then disappeared. The bus became his alternative transport as taxicabs were now a no go zone and his increasing drinking meant he couldn’t risk driving. He lay awake each night reliving the moment, wondering if she was still thinking the same thoughts, still sitting on that stool and still not attracting the right man. It seemed there was little he could do now but accept his life had peaked and look forward to a future of grudging dreary survival, as survival it was. This wasn’t what he would call living anyway.
She was still there, as he thought. Still drinking in the same bar. This was a pretty good thing as the drive had been a costly one and pursuing her would have been difficult without a name or even a number (he had washed away her number from his arm, shortly after falling into his flat drunk, the night after she had given it to him.). And costly also because, his supervisors had refused him any more leave, resulting in his hasty resignation. He suddenly felt nervous, seeing her there, long slender smooth skinned back to him. He felt so foolish coming here now; she was obviously not missing him, not needing him as he needed her. She was out drinking in the same bar as though he had never existed. Then she turned, her eyes fixing him like a magnet, his knees actually went weak, much to his surprise and mild amusement.
As she caught his gaze, she rose from the barstool, simultaneously moving towards him. She faltered a millisecond, recognized his smile creeping back to his face, and broke into a run leaping the last few steps into his open, waiting arms. The tears running down her face mingled with the ones he was pouring out as he kissed her neck and squeezed her so tight he thought she would break. They tumbled kissing and mumbling ‘love you’s’ from the dank little cavern and blinked at the lights from the street, then ran laughing towards the nearest available doorway, kissing more and making plans.
Tonight was going to be a beginning not an end. A beginning to what they could not say, but it was not going to be boring.