Surprisingly well

I found a cocktail bar across town, hoping to avoid anyone we knew. But it was a nice place, a rooftop bar in a high-rise with a view; the reviews called it a great date spot. Stacey dressed up well: a bit revealing, a bit more casual, carefully done up but not too much so.

As we walked toward the central bar area, I put my arm around her as I'd been told to. She smiled and nuzzled closer.

"I've always wanted to come here baby," she said, and craned her neck upwards slightly, meeting my gaze with half-lidded eyes. She was clearly looking for a kiss, so I leaned down and gave her one. She grabbed my head and pulled me in, nearly swallowing my tongue and grinding slightly against me. I gulped, and after a minute or so she let go and I looked for the bartender.

"What'll you have, baby?" I asked.

"A whiskey on the rocks," she said, grinning.

I looked at the bartender. "Make that two," I told him, and he nodded, preparing our drinks.

We found a cozy corner of the bar and proceeded to get sloshed. After each drink, Stacey would sit a bit closer, kiss for longer, run her hands up and down my thighs and go higher and higher towards my crotch. Five or so drinks in — she could really hold her liquor — I was smashed and she was basically giving me a handjob in the bar as we made out.

"I think it's time for you to take me home," she whispered. I nodded.