The tip of my nose began to tingle and I asked the bartender for a glass of ice water. Then my phone beeped…a text, from Him. I smiled and my heart hammered. I opened the text and laughed out loud, drawing a few smiling looks from around me. Just a number. The number 9 to be exact. I was thrilled that he was thinking about me, but also a bit disappointed at the teasingly low number. I sipped at my water and slowly counted each tightening and release of my cunny. Over too soon, I clenched tightly and arched my back ever so slightly, releasing…8….and slowly, one last time. I was smiling, in my own happy place, barely listening to the pretty, full-bodied girl at the back of the bar belting out a very slightly drunken “Black Velvet.”

I felt Him first, my breath suddenly short. Slowly I perused the room again from my stool at the end of the bar, as good as off in the corner as I could find. Across the room at a little table He sat with His wife and another couple. He held my eyes and grinned almost imperceptibly before casually moving on. I could see the warning in his eyes, the one he knows I don’t need, the one he can’t resist….could almost hear that damn honeyed heroin voice, “don’t make me kill you.” Our very own private joke. I wished it were a decade earlier, then at least the bar would have been filled with smoke, a hazy hiding place from which to observe. I glanced back His way and saw his sexy, appreciative nod at the cute singer as she walked back toward her table.

A tingle went scurrying through the middle of me and I caught the fella behind the bar. Another glass of wine please, and whatever “Black Velvet” is having. The startled look on his face had me almost breathless, a quick little jolt of shock factor high. Feeling both reckless and completely in control…my comfort zone so to speak…I picked up my wine and turned to set about to see if I could seduce the girl across the room. The bar was full, loud, the karaoke wasn’t all bad and what was bad was given and received in good natured fun. The look on her face when he gave her the drink was as adorable as it gets, puzzled and then she blushed and waved. After a few minutes she brought her beer over and sat next to me, holding out her hand.

We sat talking and laughing, touching each other as girls will do in conversation. Finally I glanced toward Him. His table had filled, another couple had joined them and a few people were standing nearby. He didn’t look at me that I could see, and I turned back to Carrie. The beep of my phone startled me and I nearly shrieked. It was as if a line of electricity connected us from across the room. She turned to order each of us another drink and I opened the text. 22 bitch. I began, took a deep breath and sat a little straighter, screaming at myself to concentrate, not to mess up the count.