One-on-One with Cattie

There were two primary spots that were classic stops for sightseeing and fun whenever I talked to someone about visiting Vegas. Sure, there were lots of smaller spots, little nooks and crannies in the city, that could be explored based on personal preferences, but the two main ones in my mind started with the Strip, which we’d done at least in part but really required a few days (or multiple trips) to see fully, and Fremont Street.

And of the two, I really thought Freemont Street was the better of the two locations when it came to dates. Depending on the night it could be a little more chaotic than the Strip, but it frequently had a carnival atmosphere along with heavy doses of Vegas history. It also happened to be filled with a lot more live entertainment (although anyone attending had to be careful not to get hooked by a scammer), and places that were a lot easier to stop in at and have some fun.

Cattie’s face as we walked up to the bright lights was child-like joy, and we walked and took in all the sights of both the locations and the various buskers with her clutching one of my hands with both of hers most of the time. And if not that, then I had my hand resting on her hip as she leaned into me, occasionally glancing up with that brilliant smile on her face. We stopped for drinks first at the Gold Spike, which was a fun spot with giant versions of drinking games, and rubbed elbows with some tourists from Virginia for a game of Giant Beer Pong. That ended with the other couple getting asked to leave as the girlfriend (who had spent a significant part of the day drinking) flashed us guys to distract her boyfriend.

Then we hit the Pizza Rock for dinner, a block off the main street, which happened to be packed that night for some reason so we couldn’t really have a deep conversation with any sort of privacy. We did have a great time, and delicious pizza as we flirted hard. I was tempted to get another one to go that we could share later with Cass, but carrying it around wouldn’t be great for the rest of our night out. The thing that really stuck out to me was how comfortable I was with Cattie, but I still got those nerves of newness being on a date with her even though we’d been so intimate over the last week, and friends for years before that. Every time she turned to glance at me, smiling hard at something going on or some new flavour in her mouth, it sent thrills through me. Holding her hand, touching her waist; they were so much less intimate than sex and yet doing it so publicly, just us, had that First Date feeling of nerves behind each gesture that I remembered from when Cass and I started dating way back in high school.

The flirting was so relentless between us that I caught people watching - though I told myself the first couple of times that it was just guys glancing at a hot girl. It wasn’t until the waitress at Pizza Rock offered to take our picture for us to memorialise our First Date that I realised it was both of us, and we were making it pretty damn obvious that we were a new, and obsessed, couple.

And we did get that picture, with Cattie surprising me by both turning and kissing me on the cheek for it, but also secretly grabbing my crotch under the lip of the table. She got exactly what she wanted though, and laughed at the look on my face in the photo as she sent it to the other girls.

After dinner, which I insisted I pay for after which she insisted that she would then be buying the next drinks wherever we ended up, we toured up and down Fremont some more. We stopped and watched a couple of the buskers, throwing them a fiver or a tenner if we stuck around for a song or three. At one point I caught Cattie glancing at me a little shyly as a pretty pair of blondes were singing a twangy rendition of Fly Me to the Moon, and I gamely took her hand and we ended up dancing closely to the end of the song like high schoolers at prom. The kiss at the end was definitely more on the mature side, though.

We ended the night at The Nerd, a big Arcade Bar that Cass and I liked to bring any of our more nerdy friends or family when they came into town. Cattie was thrilled and we burned through a good forty dollars worth of credits jumping from game to game for a couple of hours as we sipped goofy retro-gaming-themed cocktails.

The other thing we did was continue to flirt, and we were getting more and more shameless. My hands were on her ass frequently. She was constantly trying to tickle me to distract me from a game, rubbing my arm or leg, or looking at me with those big eyes of hers as she silently asked me for a kiss that would linger for much longer than was probably appropriate. I honked her boobs from behind while she was playing a shooting game with one of the big plastic gun controllers, and she just laughed and leaned back against me, grinding her ass against my pelvis. She pulled the centre of her athletic bra down with one finger, flashing me some extra cleavage and the tops of the cups of her black lingerie bra to distract me during a racing game as she drove one-handed.

“Fuck, I want you,” Cattie mumbled after our latest kiss, her hand going down to the bottom of my shirt. For a second I was worried she was going for my waistband right there between the arcade games, but she ran her hand up my stomach instead. Not as dirty, but still intimate. Still a little much even for a bar deep into the evening.

“You have me,” I growled softly, taking her chin in my hand and kissing her again.

“Mmmm, Master,” she moaned, coming out of the kiss with a grin and pulling me down to her to say it right in my ear. “Take me home, please? I’ve had an amazing time, but I just need to be just us now. No one else around.”

One more kiss and I took her hand and started leading her out of the bar. We could always use the last of our tokens the next time we came by.

I don’t think either of us was planning on Cattie sitting in my lap on the couch, bawling her eyes out as she held onto me.

“I’m- s-s-s-so sorry, Rob-b-bie,” she sobbed, clutching me.

“It’s OK, baby,” I sighed, holding her tightly. “You deserve to get it all out.”

The car ride back had been blissful, taking a detour back down the Strip just to see some more of the lights as she held my hand in the passenger seat of my truck. I’d had to pay some extra attention to traffic for a moment, and when I looked back over she had tears rolling down her cheeks. Then it had slowly grown from there, starting with, “Oh my God, I wasted so much time with her.”

Cattie had gotten her confrontation and her closure. What she hadn’t gotten was time to process. Not really.

Every relationship that ended, every dream that died on the vine, deserved a mourning period for what could have been. Even shitty relationships started with a spark of something, and Cattie’s relationship with Heather had been two years long, not just a week-long flirt and fling. They’d talked about moving in together. They’d had fights, and compromises, and been merging their lives for better or worse.

And the end might have been closure, but it was also pretty high up there on the ‘Top 10 List of Worst Breakups that Didn’t Involve ****.’ The double betrayal of Heather and Sherry was deep, and super fucked up.

We ended up sitting in the truck outside our place, Cattie clutching my hand and crying as she rambled about all of it. She spilt her guts on how much she’d been letting things wash off her back. How she’d been letting Heather convince her that demands were compromises, toxic behaviour was just character quirks, and that she was often at fault and needed to make up for things that were just normal things of life. Watching Cassidy and I, even during the two abnormal days back home as we communicated through the day keeping each other updated without being overbearing or getting upset had made her really happy, but sitting there in the car it made her utterly ashamed of the person she’d let Heather turn her into in their relationship. Then we migrated inside, and I pulled her to the couch and bundled her up in my arms, wrapping a blanket around us, and she’d really let it out.

She was a mess. My shirt was a mess. I didn’t care, because I loved her as a person way more than I loved her as a lover.

“The bu-bu-buttplug feels so weird while I’m crying,” she laughed hoarsely.

It took me a second to parse that one and I had to cough as I tried not to laugh, and then lost that fight and snickered into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I ruined our night, Robbie,” Cattie whimpered, snuggling deeper against my chest. “I just-” her voice broke as she sobbed again.

“I know, Catherine, I know,” I said, rubbing her back.

“Thank you for this,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

“Cassidy is gonna be all ‘You could have just asked him to fuck it out of you, you know,’” Cattie said, putting on a pretty credible impression of my fiancee.

“Yeah, well, Cass and I both have our own shit to work on,” I sighed. “You’re pretty aware of that, baby. Don’t put us on a pedestal all of a sudden.”

“You don’t,” Cattie said, looking up into my eyes and curling her fingers into the collar of my shirt. “You’re kinda perfect. Cass does, and you two together do, but you don’t have anything to fix, just… process.”

“I’m not perfect,” I said. “I’m… jealous, and selfish.”

“You’re jealous of the women you love and say they love you too, in a romantic way,” Cattie said. “And if you think you’re selfish because of having multiple girlfriends and it's not fair to us, we did pretty much decide all of that for you.”

“Way to take all the responsibility off of my shoulders,” I smirked a little at her. “You gotta admit, having eight girlfriends once everyone is… yeah- Eight is a bit much. And you all sharing me, but wanting to be exclusive with me in one direction, is kind of like…”

“Setting feminism back a couple of millennia and making it look like the patriarchy won after all?” Cattie suggested, then sniffed hard and wiped at her red-rimmed eyes.

“Yeah, something like that.”

She shifted on my lap from sitting sideways to straddling me, wriggling her arms behind me to hug me tightly. Then she kissed me lightly before pressing her cheek to my shoulder, kissing my neck and mumbling against my skin. “It’s not anti-feminist if we’re choosing it, just like deciding not to get an abortion for an accidental pregnancy wouldn’t be anti-feminist. Or choosing to be a homemaker instead of having a career and shit. If you were paying us or something, maybe. But you’re not. I know I want this so bad because I love who you are with Cassidy, and who you always were with me before there was ever anything more than some physical attraction we wouldn’t act on. I love who you are, and who you make me want to be, and how you make me feel. And… Robbie, I love who you are while dealing with Cassidy’s bullshit. I love that you’re willing to be ****, and feel shit, and talk it out. Even the panic attacks - God, I wish you didn’t have to go through them, but you being OK with being **** in front of me, in front of Terra, instead of getting all weird or macho and trying to pretend it didn’t happen… I think it made us both respect you more when you were accepting it and not being all ashamed or something. You’re not selfish, you’re empathetic.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” I whispered, my hands flat against her back as we held each other.

That made her snort and sit up, looking me in the eyes again. “I’m in fucking love with you, Robbie Blane.”

“I’m in fucking love with you too, Catherine Worndorf,” I said, my hands sliding down to her hips under the blanket. “But this isn’t about me tonight. What can I do for you?”

She sighed, and wiped her eyes again, blinking a few times. “Well… I need a shower. To clean all of this,” she waved around her face, “And also because I feel dirty just talking about the Raging Cunt while we were supposed to be on a date that was all about us. I’m so sorry, Tiger.”

“Stop,” I said. “Stop apologising.”

“OK, OK,” she said. “Um. I know Cass said shower sex was off the table because it’s too slippy, but do you think maybe we could just shower together, and then make our way to bed?”

“Sure,” I said, pulling her tighter against me into another hug. “I don’t think I could ever, ever say no to a chance like that.”

I could feel her cheeks tighten against my neck as she grinned widely. “Thanks, Robbie,” she murmured. “You’re the best.”

Breakthebar erotica is powered by Patreon, where AMA chapters are releasing 5+ chapters ahead. PM if interested in making a Commission.