I don’t think anyone realized I had never seen them before, but I knew as soon as they walked in together who they were. The pair, the infamous duo, gracing our Happy Hour once more.
Charlie wore a slightly wrinkled dress shirt, unbuttoned a few notches and without a tie, showing off his Asian-work-trip tan. David was sharp, all business, in a tailored suite with creases I almost feared would cut me.
When they arrived, the din of the bar lowered to a mutter. It was obvious what everyone was talking about.
I sat in my usual spot in a cushioned corner window seat, sipping my Amstel Light. As they stood in the entrance, surveying the crowd, a quandary occurred to me: Yes, they played together, but did that extend beyond fucking up someone else’s shit? Did they fuck each other? And, if so, who was the top?
Just as a devilish grin crept across my face at this new thought, they both locked in on me in my little corner. I felt a surge of nervous anticipation, wondering if they’d take the bait. Wondering if my little scheme would actually have a shot at fruition.
I intentionally wore a low cut white buttoned shirt, a short skirt, white knee socks, and saddle shoes. Like Charlie, I’d missed a few buttons. Most everyone at Happy Hour said I looked sexy. I was like Dom catnip; I hoped I would get bit.
It was Charlie who first saw me. Once his stare was locked, David’s gaze soon followed. I found this interesting, considering everyone seemed to believe David was the more dominant of the two. This small gesture, however, began my suspicions of an other-than-obvious dynamic at play.
It was also Charlie who first came over to ensnare their prey. When the people at my table saw the storm had set their sights on me, everyone thought it was time for another round. With the table quickly cleared, Charlie swaggered over and sat directly opposite me. He flashed his signature smile.
“You’re new. Who are you?” I took a sip of my beer but looked straight past him.
“I believe the proper phrasing is What is your name?.”
“My name’s Charlie. Thank you for asking.” He flashed the smile again, turning on the charm.
“Really? Charlie? Like Charlie Brown, the cartoon nitwit.” The smile went away. I took another small sip of my beer, and grimaced at the game.
“No, like Chaplin, the master entertainer.”
“Isn’t it the same?”
“No, it is not the same.” An edge had entered his voice. I finally turned away from the game and looked into his eyes. I also turned on the cute.
“Did I offend you? I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.” I dipped my head down and brought my arms together, plumping my cleavage while twisting my hands nervously. “You just said your name was Charlie and it was the first thing that came to my mind because I love the Peanuts.” I lifted my gaze past him again. “Oh gosh, the game is so close. I’m an alum. Well, it was nice to meet you Charlie.” I flashed him a smile, then willed my eyes back to the far away television screen.
As I did, David slinked into the chair next to mine, sitting just a little too close. Without them noticing, I gazed Charlie catching David’s eye in some sort of quiet language. It was David’s turn.
“This must be your first Happy Hour. I’m David.” He reached out his hand for me to shake it, but I pretended to not see it, instead pounding my hand on the table because of a bad play. “Why are you more concerned with a sporting event than interacting with anyone?” He slipped his hand over mine and lightly squeezed it.
“Um, I guess I’m new? New-ish. It’s just I forgot today was the big game and I had meant to DVR it at home but than I came here and saw it was on and now I think I just might go home. I really shouldn’t miss this. I’ll just come back next week.” I swirled around, looking flustered, but really just releasing my hand from David’s grip.
“You’re going to rush all the way home? The game will be over by the time you get there.”
I gathered my things, being sure to not make eye contact with either of them.
“Oh no, I live just a few blocks away. And they just went to commercial. I should go.” I turned away from both of them, bent over, and presented my ass as I reached for a small purse on the floor. I was wearing a lacy thong. I pulled out some cash and arched my back as I rose. I placed the money on the table and grabbed my coat. The boys, when they again realized the situation, began protesting. I just talked over them.
“It was really nice meeting the two of you. Charlie and Dave, right? I’ll see you next week.”
I quickly rushed out the door.
No one had ever resisted them. Ever.
(to be continued, tomorrow)
Categorised as: Erotica
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