Long Tall Drink

I’m in another new town where I know no one, fantastic. I love the travel that my job provides, but it can make it hard to form any kind of real relationship since I never stay anywhere more than about 18 months. I have always considered myself an attractive woman and have had dates and comments that suggest that others agree. I am 5’7” with a curvy build. I have been blessed in the bosom department with a 36 D chest. A small waist and curvaceous hips lead down to slender and shapely legs. I have brunette hair that I usually keep in a chin length bob, large brown eyes, and full pouty lips. I usually don’t have a hard time meeting new people when I move, particularly men. Now, let me tell you a little secret. I have a voracious sexual appetite. Ever since I can remember all I ever think of is sex. So, whenever I move to a new town one of the first things on my agenda is finding a man to meet those needs. This town concerns me. I haven’t seen very many promising prospects and I have been here about a week. I’ve been organizing and cleaning all day today and I am ready for a break.
My apartment is a loft above a row of shops. There is a trendy (overpriced) hair salon right under me. Down about three shops is a little bar. Since I don’t know much else about the town I figure I can grab a drink there just to get out of the house for a bit. I walk into the bar and it is empty but for me and the bartender. The very hot bartender I might add. I can’t believe my luck! I check his hand for a ring and don’t see one so I sit at the bar with my rising hopes. I am surprised it’s empty but it is a Tuesday and it’s only 7:00 (p.m. mind you).
The bartender makes his way over wearing an easy smile that increases his sex appeal ten fold. “Hi, name’s Danny. What can I get you?” It takes me a minute to answer and I realize what and idiot I must seem like when I finally get out the words that tell him I want a martini. He smirks and chuckles. God he’s hot! I bet he gets this all the time. As he walks away to make my drink I eye him up and down, black t-shirt that clings tightly to his oh-so-ripped body, a pair of comfortable jeans hug his ass like they were made just for him. His face looks like it belongs in some kind of Calvin Klein ad or something. Hell, even his name is sexy! He makes his way back over with my drink and I find myself dumbstruck once again.
“Know what?” he says, “On the house. Just for coming in to keep me company. You got a name?” I just stare at him until I realize he is indeed referring to me and I finally manage to sputter out, “Oh, me? Um, yeah, sorry, my name is Tess.” Man I wish I had changed into something sexier before I came down here!
“Well Tess, it’s nice to meet you. I usually get nothing but regulars. You new around here?”
I was finding it harder to reply with each passing moment. It was as if I was hypnotized by him. “Yeah, I actually just moved into the apartment above the salon a few doors down.”
“Oh really,” he says, raising his eyebrows inquisitively, “well then, welcome neighbor. I just live above the bar. I’m glad to see a good lookin’ woman has moved to town.”
He winks at me as he walks toward the other end of the bar to grab some bottles.