Love Story
    “What’s your story?” asked the tall brunette, with the bedroom eyes.
    “I wanted a drink, I came here,” I answer. I watch her scrutinizing me. I can already feel her embrace.
    “Nobody comes here by accident,” she says hands on her hips.
“I sussed this wasn’t the Russian tea room. I wanted gin, why do you care?” I answer. Taking her in khaki shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops she’s not trying too hard in her 30’s. Still, I’m interested because there seems to be more to her than the feral vibe she’s giving. The feral vibe in a woman’s dirty thirties’ is to be expected. Yet there is depth, and challenge that tests me I buy her a drink and hand it to her.
“I don’t need small talk, “ She says.
“I am not looking to get to know the real you, you’re safe” I answer. I slide her a fiver, and she goes to the jukebox Prince she definitely passed the test. 1999 is coming on as she makes her way back to the bar. I take her hand and dance for a moment.  At the bar, she leans into me. I kiss her neck. She gives me a soft moan. We don’t really speak much. I look up its   last call. She says, “I am not looking for a husband. I am looking for multiple orgasms.
    “I can help with that” I answer.
    “Wow, you’re cocky.” She says “but I can work with that, can you handle a full grown woman?”
    “Let's roll, “ I say
    “Beach first lets swim first. She answers. I turn the car towards the beach.
    ‘Not exactly a love story she says.
    “Yeah, but I am thinking a good story.