The Bar, Part 1

The small bar was packed on a Friday night because of the live music. As the band played on the stage she made her way to the bar, ordered a drink and found herself a table near the wall. Standing next to the table she started dancing in time to the music. Her hands on the table as her hips swaying with the drummers beat. The tempo was steady.

When the band took their break she glanced around the room. She locked onto his stare from the end of the bar. His gazed started at her eyes and traveled down. Her cheeks blushed brightly as his eyes came back up to meet hers with a smile. Sliding off his chair, grabbing his drink he headed over to her.

Mesmerizing. It was the only fitting way to describe her dancing. From his original position at the table across the room, he could have sworn her outfit was painted on. Her dark blue jeans and black halter top conformed precisely to every magnificent curve of her small frame. As their eyes met, her blush accentuated her deep red lips and fingernails, as well as confirming the mutual desire.

It wasn't until he began to walk over to her that he became aware of the tightness in his jeans. He needed to relieve that pressure and she was just the woman that could help. The nearer he got to her, the more beautiful she became, like a lens slowly coming into focus on the most desirable thing he had ever seen. He tried masking his anxiousness by asking a very simple question, "It's hot in here, would you care to step outside and get some air with me?"