When I raise my eyes, she’s watching me gawk at her chest. I shrug with a sheepish smile then lift my own tumbler as I swivel on my stool to face across the bar. Taking a long, slow sip gives me the perfect opportunity to search for her accomplice.
A man is staring at me from a cushioned booth near the door. I missed him when I came in. He quickly looks away when he notices I’ve turned in his direction. He appears to be about my size. They are obviously a pair. His posture is confident, and the suit fits him well enough to be tailored. With that angular, clean-shaven face and firm jaw, he has the look of a CEO. A glint of gold on his finger adds weight to my theory.
This changes things. Maybe they’re looking for a three-way. Then again, I’ve heard about men who like to watch. Is that what’s going on here? My arrogance bubbles back to the surface. There may yet be hope for this night.
“I never told you my name.” I extend my hand to the woman. “Jack Galway.”
“Galway,” she repeats, scrunching her brow as we shake. Then she tosses it off. “Pleased to meet you, Jack. I’m Dana Dryer. Maiden name McCleod.”
“Ah, McLeod. Another fine Scottish clan.”
“Aye,” she winks. She has a genuine smile.
My fingers are loose around my drink on the bar. Dana covers my hand with hers. Her index finger draws tiny, titillating figure eights on the back.
“Do you live in this area, Mr. Galway?”
“Just passing through. I’ll be in St. Louis tomorrow.” I tell her.
“I have friends in St. Lou,” she says, swinging her crossed legs around in front.
Her eyes dilate and she draws a startled breath when I lay my hand on her knee. I’m not sure she was prepared for that. I become the surprised one when she uncrosses her legs slow enough to keep my hand in place, then spreads them about six inches apart. An engraved invitation would have been less transparent.
A struggle is going on behind her eyes. It’s almost as though they are pleading with me, ‘Please, don’t…’ even as her body opens itself to me. This scene is becoming more complex by the second.
“How long have you lived in this little burg?” I ask, pretty sure she doesn’t live here either.
My fingers sneak under the hem of her dress to stroke the inside of her knee. She stops teasing my hand and balls her fist.
“We, uh…I live about halfway between here and St. Lou,” she says. Her voice is unsteady and the silky alto is now strained.
“I presume by ‘we’, you mean you and your husband.” My fingertips begin drawing their own little figures on her delicate skin.
“My husband,” she says. She tosses a skittish microsecond glance across the room. “Yes. I’m married. He’s not your concern.”
“I’m not concerned in the least Dana.” My smile is patient. “But I have to wonder if that gentleman staring at us from the booth by the door is concerned. I presume he’s your husband?”
“Ohgod! You know…” She starts hyperventilating.
“Take a deep breath, Dana. Just relax.” Withdrawing my hand from her leg, I close it gently around her tensed fist. “Nothing is going to happen without your permission.”
“I…I’m not… I mean, it’s been so long. I forgot how to do this.”
“You’re doing fine. Why don’t you have a little more of your martini?” When she tosses it back in one gulp, I ask, “Would you like another?”
She smiles. “I think that might be a good idea.”
I motion to the bartender for a couple of refills.
“Would you care to tell me what’s going on, Dana?”
“I feel so stupid,” she says. “This is difficult to talk about.”
“I won’t judge you. I promise.”
She searches my eyes. When she finds what she’s looking for, the anxiety visibly drains from her body. She breathes easier. Her fist unfolds and she rolls it over to clasp my hand.
“We are talking about children,” she says. “My husband is, well…he’s not like most other men.”
“Does he hurt you?”
“No! Nothing like that,” she says. Then she laughs. “Well, I guess you could think of it that way. He’s sorta big. I mean, really big. Down there.” Her gaze falls into my lap.
“Sometimes it’s uncomfortable when you make love.”
Dana nods.
I’ve heard the stories from female acquaintances. Big dicks and big egos can be a bad combination in more ways than one.
Our drinks arrive. Leaving our hands intertwined, she reaches across with the other one to take another long drink. I do the same, secretly watching the eminent Mr. Dryer chatting up the waitress. Dana doesn’t appear to notice.
She says, “Before we commit ourselves to a family, I want to feel a…’normal’ man just once again.” She gives me a sidelong look. “I assume you are, y’know…’normal’?”
“Somewhere in the average range,” I chuckle. Actually, I’m ever-so-slightly on the bigger side of average, but no one has ever complained. Certainly not my second ex-wife. I think she could smell ten inches from a half block away. Especially the dark-skinned ones.
Ironically, it appears that my proximity to the high point on the bell curve puts me in the running for Dana’s one-and-only extramarital partner. I have to laugh to myself. Who woulda’ thunk?
Something doesn’t add up, though. Why would a happily married man with a prodigious member agree to let his attractive wife fuck around with another man? Is he sterile, and they’re looking for a donor? Or could this be some sort of contest where he gets to show off his alpha male appendage?
Hmm, alpha male… Yeah, that’s it.
Lifting the back of her hand to my lips, I place a kiss there. She purrs. Then I gaze straight into her eyes.
“Dana, if your intent is that I should take you to my room and enjoy your gorgeous body, then I can’t deny I’m interested.”
Her eyes brighten. “We already have a room at the hotel next door,” she says, squeezing my hand.
“Before we go anywhere, I need one more thing from you.”
“Sure,” she says. She sounds thrilled. “What is it?”
“I need you to stop lying to me.”
Her chin drops and she gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her open mouth.
Slowly, the corners of her lips turn up. “I should have known. You’re a smart guy, Jack. Not many things get by you, do they?”
“Two wives got by me,” I tell her, and she gives me a sorrowful look. “Neither of them paid close attention to the details when they were reciting their vows.”
Dana blushes. She stares at the floor.
“How many has he had?” I ask.
“He says it was only one. I know about two others.” She continues looking down. “One of them was my best friend.”
I suspect there are more. She probably does, too. A handsome, successful and well-endowed man? Yeah, lots more.
Hooking a finger under Dana’s chin, I bring her eyes up.
“Do you seriously expect this to fix everything?”
She lets out a quiet snort. “Not really. I’m just hoping once he gets a little taste of how it feels…”
We both know better. I’m not going to burst her bubble, though.
My fingers slide under her dress again, a few inches past her knee. Her grip on my other hand tightens.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” I ask.
“Yes, Jack. I’m sure.”
“I know you’re not wearing a bra.”
Her mouth drops open. “How did you…?”
“Are you wearing panties?”
Her lips twist into a sly smirk. She opens her legs wider. “There’s one way to find out.”