Happy Hour

Amira had shown up for the date a little early. She wanted to make sure they were sitting at the bar and not at a table. She wanted something light and casual, not too serious. Andres had wanted to do a big dinner date at an expensive steak house. Amira had talked him down to cocktail hour at a bar and lounge.

She found two empty, high-backed seats at the bar and sat in one, draping her leather jacket over the over to save it for Andres. She wished she’d worn a long-sleeve shirt; the air was cold. Not having to dress up had been one of her reasons for not wanting to do the steak house. Nice restaurants meant nice clothes, and that wasn't for Amira. She wasn’t a slouch, but she’d decided to go with the simple shirt and jeans she was comfortable in. She got the impression Andres would have preferred to see her in a dress, but it would take a lot of work on his part for that to ever happen.

The bartender stopped by and took her order, returning shortly after with a too-expensive beer. Gentle piano music and the buzz of quiet conversation filled the room. The walls were dark red, and the lighting was kept low; it was the sort of place that wanted to be upscale, but wasn’t willing to shell out the kind of money it would take to really nail the aesthetic.

Amira had her reservations about the date; her expectations weren’t particularly high, but she’d **** herself to go out anyway. She hadn’t been on a date in more than a year, since well before she’d moved into the city, and even if things didn’t pan out with Andres, it would still be good for her to start trying again. She needed some forward momentum in her life. Plus, there was always the chance that he surprised her, she figured.

“Amira!” Andres called out as he walked into the lounge, waving his hand over his head to get her attention. She pulled her jacket off the seat and put it back on as he walked over. He’d shown up early, too, Amira noted; she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

“It’s good to see you,” Andres said as he settled into the chair next to her, flashing a bright smile. He clearly thought it charming. It wasn’t not charming, Amira supposed.

“You too,” she replied. “How’s your day been?”

“So glad you asked,” he chuckled. “You’re not going to believe this call I got. Dispatch puts out a domestic. So I pull up and this woman is screaming mad. I mean, she is fuming. She’s on me the moment I get out of the cruiser, going on a mile a minute about how her boyfriend stole something from her. I finally get her to slow down and tell me what he took, and I swear to God she just straight up admits to me that he took her stash. So I’m like, well, do you have any left? I told her we needed to match what he took to what she has to make sure it's hers. And get this. She runs in to grab it! She just hands it over to me! Literally the easiest booking of my life.” Andres ends the story with a belly-deep laugh.

Amira shook her head. “Not exactly a MENSA candidate, huh?”

“Not a chance. Even when I had her in cuffs, she was still going on about the boyfriend. She didn’t understand why she was under arrest. These people,” he snorted. “Hey buddy,” Andres flagged down the waiter. “Long Island for me.”

“On a weeknight?” Amira asked.

Andres shrugged. “You’ve got to start strong.”

Amira let it go. To each their own.

“So,” Andres asked her. “Where do you work out? I mean, it’s obvious you do.” He gave her an appreciative gaze.

So that was why he’d asked her out. In Amira’s experience, there were two kinds of guys: the ones who wanted to feel her muscles, and the ones who expected she’d stop working out once they were in a relationship. She wasn’t overly built, but she was fit, and she looked the part. Men had a complicated relationship with that.

“I go to the gym down on 9th and Parkway,” she answered.

Andres furrowed his brow. “I think I’ve been there. It’s a small one, right?”

Amira nodded. “Yeah, but it’s got all the machines I need.” Free weights were dangerous with her bad leg. Machines made it easier.

“Myself, I go to the Iron Union off Main Street.” He gave her a flex. Credit where it was due, the guy was in great shape, and Amira could appreciate that. “You should stop by some time. I could get you a guest pass.”

“Expensive membership,” she noted.

“Totally worth it though. They’ve got loads of facilities. You ever used a sauna after a workout? Shit’s unbelievable. Plus, they’ve got basketball courts.”

“You play?” Amira asked. She'd been on her high school team years ago, although she'd never been any good.

“I’m not in a league or anything," he said, "but me and the boys do some pick-up games. "

“I used to like to play,” Amira told him, taking a sip of her beer. “Could be fun to join up.”

“We uh, we play a little hard," Andres said with a grimace. "Not sure if it’d be your speed.”

“I can play hard,” she said, annoyed.

“I just meant with uh, with your leg and all.”

Right. Amira still forgot about that sometimes. Andres at least had the decency to seem embarrassed at bringing it up. She tried not to hold it against him.

“We could totally do one-on-one, though,” he added quickly. “I’d love to hang out some more. They also have a pool, if that's more up your alley.”

The guy was trying, she had to admit. “That could work.”

“Do you mind if I ask, uh, you know…” Andres trailed off uncomfortably, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“What happened?” Amira offered.

“Yeah,” Andres smiled sheepishly. “You were military, right? Is it a war wound?”

She shook her head. “Car crash. Fucker blew a red light at an intersection and t-boned me.” She killed her beer and asked for another from the bartender. Andres took the opportunity to order a second drink as well.

“Is that why you left the service?”

“Pretty much. I could have shifted roles, but I wanted to be in the field. Without that…my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. So I decided not to reenlist.”

An awkward silence settled in. Amira always got a little despondent when she thought of her Army days. That was where she wanted to be, but it just wasn't in the cards.

Andres broke the tension with an over-the-top salute and said, with a big grin, “Well, thank you for your service!”

Amira punched in the arm and, despite herself, laughed. “Don't start that crap.”

The two spoke more, and the date dragged on. They talked about their families - Amira was an only child while Andres had two brothers - movies they'd seen, their work, all the usual getting-to-know-you stuff. The bartender kept the drinks coming, and the conversation began to flow a little more easily. She hadn’t come into the night with high hopes, but if nothing else, Amira was at least having a good time. It started to sink in for her that she didn’t have any friends in the city. She’d missed this.

Eventually, the night started to wind down, and the time came to head home. “Did you take a cab here?” Amira asked.

“Nah," Andres replied. "I drove.”

She gave him a skeptical look. He’d been drinking. A lot. “Maybe you should get one home.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got my union bumper sticker. Nobody’s pulling me over.”

That hadn't been Amira's point. “Let me take you home," she offered. She wasn’t sober, but she should be good to drive. He definitely was not. "I’ve had less than you.”

“Yeah?” Andres asked. Then with a shrug, “All right.”

The two settled up, Amira paying for her own drinks over Andres’ strong objections, and stumbled out to the parking lot. Andres hopped into the passenger’s seat and gave her the directions to his house. As they drove, Amira realized that she might have had more to drink than she’d thought. Thankfully, Andres lived close by, and the way there was mostly quiet side streets.

They pulled up outside Andres’ house, a small one-story home with a well-mowed lawn, and Amira turned the car off.

“So…this is me,” he said.

“I had fun tonight,” she told him honestly. He may not have been who she would have chosen, but it had been a good time.

“Me too. I was starting to think you weren’t going to text me,” he admitted.

“I’m glad I did, though,” she told him.

“Do it again sometime?” Andres asked.

“Yeah,” Amira smiled. “I’ll let you know.”

Andres leaned across the center console, and Amira let him as they shared their first kiss. His lips were thick, and his skin was rough with stubble. Amira kissed him back, and something stirred inside of her. She’d been horny all week, hornier than normal, and as her hand caressed Andres’ thick bicep that part of her flared to life. Her head swam from the mixture of **** and her rising arousal.

“Good sluts need relief.”

In Amira’s drunken, lustful state, she didn’t clock that the whisper wasn’t something she had thought. It gave her pause; she didn’t think about herself in those terms. She was about to pull away when Andres’ hand landed on her thigh, and her need leaped up to meet it. Instead of breaking off the kiss, she leaned into it. As Andres’ strong hand squeezed her leg, Amira’s tongue darted into his mouth. Their passion rose, and their drunken make-out session escalated. Amira’s hands wandered over Andres’ chest, and his own moved up to feel her breasts through her bra, and the two pawed at each other like teenagers.

I need to get fucked, came another whisper in her thoughts.

Andres broke the kiss off first. “Want to come inside?” he offered, desire in his voice.

Emotions warred within Amira. Vaguely, she recalled her determination at the start of the night not to take things too quickly. The importance of that resolution had diminished greatly in the face of the heat between her legs. She stared into Andres' eyes and saw the promise of what he would do to her if she said yes. The rational part of her mind struggled free and, seeing that there was no chance of her just driving away, offered a compromise.

Amira’s hand trailed down over Andre’s abs to rest on his crotch. She felt his hardness and gave it an admiring squeeze. “Maybe next time. Tonight, let’s just stay in the car.”

Any objections Andres might have had died on his lips as Amira unbuttoned his pants. He lifted himself briefly to let them slide down so that Amira could fish his cock out of his pants. She leaned over to rejoin their kiss as her hand slid up and down his shaft.

Andres moaned into her mouth, but made no move to return the favor. Amira’s pussy cried out for stimulation, she could hardly remember ever being this horny, but her date was too lost in his own pleasure to notice.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “You like having my dick in my hand?”

Amira licked her lips, too worked up to care how ridiculous she sounded. “Oh yeah. I love it. I want you to cum for me.”

As she said it, something inside of her sparked. It was true, she found; she did want him to cum. She was waiting for it, anticipating it hungrily.

Her hand sprinted up and down his cock, working it for all she was worth. Andres leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, moaning. Amira fixed her eyes expectantly on the head of his dick.

I love cum.

She would later reflect on the thought as a strange one, but in that moment, she didn't question it at all.

Andres’ hips started to buck and his cock grew harder. He was close. Amira kept her pace and placed her other hand on top, twisting it around his tip.

"Cum for me," she said, desire dripping from her words. "Cum, Andres."

Unable to hold back, Andres gave in to his climax. Globs of hot cum shot into Amira's hand as he let out a low, satisfied, groan. Amira appreciated the feeling of his cock pulsing in her grip, giving her the hot, white load she'd been looking forward to. When Andres was spent, he opened his eyes and looked over at her, breathing hard.

Lick it off your hand.

Without her any release of her own, Amira’s mind was in a sex-drenched fog. She raised her hand to her mouth, dripping fresh cum down onto her center console as it went, and licked. The warm, salty taste filled her mouth.

Andres watched with wide eyes. “Oh fuck that's hot,” he hissed.

Amira’s eyes smoldered. She’d never done something like that before, but it had felt right. She waited until Andres closed his eyes again and spit the cum back out into her hand, then smeared it onto the car seat to whipe it off.

Now it was her turn. Amira leaned over to kiss Andres while she worked at getting her pants off, but Andres shot back away from her.

“Sorry,” he said with a squemish look, “it’s just, um…well, you know.”

Just that quickly, the magic vanished. “Right,” Amira blinked. She wiped her mouth. The hand came away with a small dot of slime.

Andres leaned to peer out of the car windows. “Maybe I should head inside before any of my neighbors see.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Amira deflated. She wasn't getting off tonight. At least not with any help.

“I’ll call you though,” he said. “I had a great time. I want to see you again.”

“Me too.” What she wanted was that jawline of his between her legs, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Andres leaned over one last time and kissed her on the forehead. “Until then,” he said, then opened his door and stepped out.

Amira watched him walk back inside, then fell back in her seat and let out a long breath. Her pussy was screaming at her. She’d have to take care of it herself when she got home.

Amira shook her head. That hadn’t been how she’d seen the night ending. And why had she done that after he came? Surprisingly, she hadn’t hated it, but it was a little gross. She was too horny for her own good. Amira turned the car on and started the drive back, unsure of how successful that date had been.