Last night at Jakes started out looking like a bust. There had been no fresh meat in sight. I had been frequenting Jakes for the past four months. It was the perfect pick-up joint. Mainly male dominated, its interior was dark and smoky. Jakes was a man’s bar, and just what I was looking for.

Yuppy bankers and investors weren’t for me, nor any other white collar worker busy hiding his wedding ring. What I craved was a working man. Rough, rugged, edgy, and hard. The kind of man with a firm grip on his beer bottle, not a light hand on a sipping glass. I didn’t need a gentleman with the subtle ‘undress you with their eyes’ look. What I wanted was that leer of lust, hunger and need.

I finished the last of my drink and was about to head home when I spotted him. He had a hard body, large build, dark looks, and impressive hands. I always noticed a man’s hands. They need to be large, the more calloused and rougher, the better. No delicate caresses for me. Just give me that firm cruel pressure on my flesh.

He sat half perched on a bar stool while I made my way over to him. My demeanor was sultry, confident, and on a mission.

“Hey handsome, you’re just what I’m looking for.”

His eyes roamed my body. I watched as they took in my dark lined eyes and red-painted lips. I shook my long dark hair slightly causing it to expose my bare shoulders.