You Did What?

A couple days later, you’re sitting at a bar with Steve, your best friend since high school. You’ve known each other long enough that neither of you really has to make plans to catch up properly. You can go a while without seeing each other, sit down over a couple drinks, and within five minutes it feels like you hung out yesterday.

Lately, though, those gaps have been getting longer. Steve works a lot, and his job has had him traveling constantly. Between that and living with his girlfriend, finding a night when both of you are actually free has become harder than it used to be.

The bar is busy without being packed, with music playing over the speakers and a couple TVs showing games above the bottles behind the counter. You and Steve managed to grab two stools near the end of the bar, which is perfect for sitting around, drinking, and catching up without having to yell at each other.

“So how long were you gone this time?” you ask.

“Almost two weeks,” Steve replies. “I got home Friday night, had the weekend, and they already want me traveling again.”

“Where to?” you ask.

“I don’t even fucking know yet,” Steve says. “They told me I might have to leave again next week, but nobody can tell me where or for how long.”

“That sounds organized,” you say.

“Oh, extremely,” Steve replies. “I love finding out my schedule three days before I’m supposed to get on a plane.”

The bartender comes over and sets another beer in front of Steve. She’s probably around your age, dressed almost entirely in black. Her crop top fits snug across her smaller chest and ends right beneath her breasts, leaving her stomach bare and showing the bottom edge of a black lace bra underneath. The lace is a little more noticeable whenever she moves, making the already short top look like it was chosen specifically to show it.

Her distressed black denim shorts sit high on her hips and end with frayed edges around her upper thighs. They fit tightly around her hips and legs without being short enough for anything to hang out. When she turns, the denim stretches snugly across her round ass, making its shape obvious even though the shorts still cover her completely. She has a slim waist and flat stomach between the tiny crop top and high waistband, giving her a curvy shape despite her smaller chest.

She’s a brunette, with long dark hair worn loose around her shoulders and a naturally pretty face. Her big brown eyes are framed by smoky eye makeup, while the rest of her makeup is light and natural. Gloss shines across her full lips when she smiles at the two of you.

“Thanks,” Steve says.

“Of course,” the bartender replies before turning her big brown eyes toward you. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good for now,” you reply.

“Alright,” the bartender says with a little smile. “Let me know if you need anything, babe.”

She holds your eyes for another second, still smiling, before turning toward another customer. The movement gives you another look at the frayed bottoms of her black denim shorts and the way they fit tightly across her ass as she walks away.

Both of you watch her walk away for a second.

“Jesus,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” you reply.

That’s about as much discussion as either of you needs before going right back to your conversation.

“How’s your girlfriend handling all that?” you ask.

“She hates it,” Steve replies. “I mean, she gets it. It’s work. But I’ll finally get home and she’s basically like, ‘Oh, cool, my roommate still lives here.’”

“That’s fucked up,” you say with a laugh.

“She’s not wrong,” Steve replies. “I swear I see her less than I see some of the guys I work with, and we live in the same fucking house.”

“At least she hasn’t changed the locks yet,” you say.

“Give it another month,” Steve replies. “I’ll come home and all my shit will be sitting in the driveway.”

“You could always move back in with your parents,” you say.

“I’d rather sleep in my car,” Steve replies.

You laugh as he takes another drink.

“No, she’s good, though,” Steve continues. “We’re good. I just need work to calm the fuck down for a minute.”

“Good luck with that,” you reply.

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says. “It’s not happening.”

The bartender comes back your way to grab an empty glass, and your attention follows her almost automatically. Up close again, you notice just how little space there is between the bottom of her crop top and the lace bra beneath it. The shirt ends directly at her underbust, showing the scalloped bottom edge of the black lace along with her bare stomach. Her waist narrows before meeting the waistband of the distressed shorts, which fit snugly around her hips.

She reaches across the bar for an empty glass, and your eyes briefly follow the movement before dropping when she turns away. The black denim fits tight across her round ass, with the frayed hems sitting high on her thighs. When she bends behind the counter to grab something, the shorts pull upward enough to show the bottoms of her plump ass cheeks beneath the frayed denim. You keep watching for another second after she straightens, the shorts settling back into place as she starts to walk away.

She looks completely different from Kelly, but somehow that only makes her more attractive. Kelly is older and much curvier, with big tits, wider hips, and the kind of big round ass you’ve already spent way too much time staring at. The bartender is younger and slimmer, with a smaller chest, a tight waist, and a plump ass that stands out against the rest of her figure. They’re two completely different types of sexy, and apparently both work equally well on you.

Then again, the bartender really shouldn’t surprise you. Brunette, long dark hair, big brown eyes, pretty face, slim waist, and a great ass. Steve knows you well enough to recognize your type immediately.

She glances over her shoulder and catches you. Instead of looking annoyed, the bartender meets your eyes and gives you a knowing little smile before continuing down the bar.

When you finally turn back, Steve is already looking at you with an amused grin.

“Dude, you need to get laid,” Steve says.

You laugh. “What?” you ask.

“You’ve been staring at that bartender’s ass all night,” Steve replies. “Brunette, big brown eyes, pretty face, and a nice ass. She’s exactly your type.”

“Fuck off,” you say with a laugh.

“I’m not wrong,” Steve replies.

You shake your head and take another drink of your beer.

“You should ask for her number,” Steve says. “She’s been smiling at you every time she comes over here.”

“Nah,” you reply.

“Why not?” Steve asks. “You seeing someone?”

“Not exactly,” you reply.

Steve looks at you for a second.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Steve asks.

You laugh and take another drink.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” you reply. “But I did hook up with someone a couple nights ago.”

Steve immediately grins.

“Attaboy,” Steve says, raising his beer.

You laugh and lift yours.

“Fuck yeah,” Steve says. “Cheers.”

You tap your bottles together and take a drink. He doesn’t immediately start interrogating you about who it was. He just looks genuinely happy that you apparently had a good night.

“She hot?” Steve asks.

You laugh.

“Very,” you reply.

“Nice,” Steve says before taking another drink.

You look down at your beer for a second.

“She’s older than me,” you say. “Really pretty. Long hair, great body. Curvy. Big tits, nice ass. Like, really nice ass. Big and round. She was wearing these tight little shorts that made it impossible not to notice. Same with her tits. They’re big, and whatever she wears always seems to show them off.””

Steve nods approvingly.

“She sounds hot,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” you reply, taking another drink. “She is.”

Your answer comes out a little more reserved than everything else you’ve said, and Steve catches it immediately.

“Alright, what’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“There’s no problem,” you reply.

“You just described a hot older woman you hooked up with like somebody died,” Steve says. “What’s up? She married or something?”

You hesitate for a second.

“Something like that,” you reply.

Steve grins and raises his beer again.

“Holy shit,” Steve says. “My man.”

You laugh, but your reaction is still restrained enough that he lowers his beer again.

“Alright, now I really want to know what the catch is,” Steve says.

You take another drink, buying yourself another second before finally saying it out loud.

“It was my dad’s girlfriend,” you admit.

Steve happens to be taking a drink when you say it. He jerks the bottle away from his mouth and nearly chokes on his beer.

“Shit,” Steve coughs.

You immediately start laughing.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at you.

“Kelly?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

There’s another second of silence. Then Steve starts laughing.

“Shit,” Steve says. “Okay. You fucking got me with that one.”

“I figured you’d appreciate that,” you say.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Steve asks, still laughing.

“I know,” you reply.

He takes another drink, considerably more carefully this time.

“I mean, fuck,” Steve says. “She’s hot as fuck.”

You laugh.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“No, seriously,” Steve says. “Everybody thinks she’s hot.”

“I’m aware,” you say.

“Yeah, you know she’s hot,” Steve replies. “You’ve got eyes.”

“I definitely know,” you say.

Steve laughs again.

“I remember the first time I met her,” Steve says. “I was trying not to say anything because obviously she’s with your dad, but I remember leaving and thinking, ‘Goddamn.’”

“Bro, that’s crazy,” you reply.

“Come on,” Steve says. “You know I’m not the only person who’s thought that.”

“You’re not,” you reply.

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” Steve says. “And she knows it too.”

“Oh, she definitely knows it,” you reply.

The way you say it makes him stop for a second.

Then he starts smiling again.

“Oh, I bet you know that now,” Steve says.

“Shut up,” you reply, laughing.

“No, this is incredible,” Steve says. “How the fuck did this happen?”

“It just kind of happened,” you reply.

“Were you already into her?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“For how long?” Steve asks.

“A while,” you reply.

He laughs.

“Of course you were,” Steve says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“Look at her,” Steve replies. “I would’ve been more surprised if you told me you never thought she was hot.”

“Fair enough,” you say.

“So what happened?” Steve asks.

“We were at the house while my dad was gone,” you explain. “We were hanging out, started fucking around and flirting with each other, and it just kept getting more serious.”

“You made a move?” Steve asks.

“It was kind of both of us,” you reply.

“Okay,” Steve says.

“We kissed,” you reply.

He waits for you to continue.

“And?” Steve asks.

“She climbed into my lap,” you say.

His eyebrows shoot up.

“She climbed into your lap?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says with a laugh. “Alright. So there wasn’t exactly a lot of confusion about whether she was into you.”

“No,” you reply. “Not by that point.”

“No shit,” Steve says.

A few minutes later, the bartender makes her way back toward you and stops on the other side of the counter.

“You guys want another?” the bartender asks, pointing toward your nearly empty beers.

“Yeah, I’ll take one,” Steve replies.

“Same,” you say.

“Knew you’d need me again, babe,” the bartender replies, looking directly at you with a little grin.

“Apparently,” you say.

“Told you,” the bartender replies.

She collects both bottles and turns toward the cooler. The distressed black denim follows the curve of her hips and ass as she walks the few steps away, the frayed bottoms moving against her thighs. When she bends to reach inside, the shorts ride up again, revealing the lower curves of her thick ass cheeks beneath the frayed hems. Her ass looks especially full from this angle, almost exaggerated against her slimmer waist and legs. Above them, her bare waist and back are visible beneath the tiny crop top, with the lower edge of her black lace bra peeking out when she reaches farther into the cooler. Neither of you makes much effort not to look.

She grabs two bottles, straightens, and catches your eyes when she turns back around. There’s another little smile on her glossy lips as she walks back over and sets your beer down directly in front of you.

“There you go, babe,” the bartender says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“Mhm,” the bartender replies with a smile before moving farther down the bar.

Steve takes his new beer and watches her go.

“Fuck,” Steve says. “She knows exactly what she’s doing in those shorts, and she definitely likes you staring.”

“Oh, definitely,” you reply.

“Good for business,” Steve says.

“Seems to be working,” you reply.

He laughs, takes a drink, and turns back toward you.

“Alright, continue,” Steve says. “You were talking about having Kelly on your lap.”

“Yep,” you reply.

You take another drink.

“She kept teasing me, we kept making out, and eventually we went upstairs,” you explain.

Steve slowly shakes his head.

“Dude,” Steve says. “That is fucking crazy.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “It escalated pretty fast.”

“I’d say,” Steve replies.

He takes another drink before something seems to occur to him.

“Wait,” Steve says. “Was this really the first time anything happened between you two?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “First time.”

“So she just randomly decided she wanted you that night?” Steve asks.

“Apparently not,” you reply.

His eyebrows rise again.

“What does that mean?” Steve asks.

“We talked afterward,” you explain. “She told me she’d been wanting it for a while.”

Steve stares at you.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Steve says.

“Nope,” you reply.

“So this whole time you thought she was hot, she thought you were hot, and neither of you knew?” Steve asks.

“Pretty much,” you reply.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve says.

“It gets better,” you say.

“There’s more?” Steve asks.

“She already knew I’d be into it,” you reply.

“How?” Steve asks.

You hesitate.

He notices immediately.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Steve says.

“She caught me checking her out before,” you admit.

Steve immediately laughs.

“Fuck off,” you say.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Steve replies through his laugh.

“You didn’t have to,” you say.

“What were you staring at?” Steve asks.

You look at him.

“What do you think?” you ask.

He laughs harder.

“Her tits?” Steve asks.

“Her ass,” you reply.

“Of course,” Steve says.

“I didn’t know she caught me,” you explain.

“Oh, dude,” Steve says. “You never had a chance.”

“I thought I was subtle,” you reply.

“You clearly were not,” Steve says.

“Apparently not,” you admit.

“So she caught you staring at her ass and just never said anything?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Was she pissed?” Steve asks.

“No,” you say. “She liked it.”

Steve stops with his drink halfway toward his mouth.

“She liked it?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. “She said it was flattering, especially because it was me. Then she said she started noticing me looking more after that and liked it more every time.”

He slowly puts his drink back down.

“You lucky bastard,” Steve says.

You laugh.

“Yeah, I got pretty fucking lucky,” you admit.

“Pretty fucking lucky?” Steve asks. “Your dad’s hot girlfriend caught you staring at her ass, liked it, and then she fucked you. I’d say you did alright.”

“When you put it like that,” you say.

“How else am I supposed to put it?” Steve asks.

He takes another drink and looks at you again.

“So that was it?” Steve asks. “One crazy night and now you two pretend it never happened?”

You shake your head.

“No,” you reply.

His expression changes again.

“No?” Steve asks.

“We talked about it afterward,” you explain. “Neither of us regrets it.”

“Okay,” Steve says.

“And neither of us wants it to be a one-time thing,” you add.

He pauses.

“Shit,” Steve says before laughing again.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“So this is actually a thing now?” Steve asks.

“I guess it is,” you reply.

“Your life got significantly more interesting since the last time I saw you,” Steve says.

“No kidding,” you reply.

He sits there for a second, still smiling like he’s trying to process the entire story.

“What happens if your dad finds out?” Steve asks.

The question takes some of the humor out of the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Nothing good.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “I can’t imagine he’d take that particularly well.”

“No,” you say. “That’s why he can’t know.”

“Does she feel the same way?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. “We already talked about it.”

Steve nods.

“Well, you’re definitely playing with fire,” Steve says.

“I know,” you reply.

The subject eventually changes as another game starts on one of the TVs over the bar. You ask more about his work, he complains about having to travel again, and he tells you a story about almost missing a flight after one of his coworkers somehow went to the wrong terminal. The two of you bounce between work, his girlfriend, people you both knew in high school, and whatever happens to catch your attention around the bar.

Still, Steve apparently has no intention of completely letting you off the hook.

The bartender stops in front of you to clear a few glasses, leaning across the bar to reach one somebody left farther back. Her tiny crop top shifts slightly as she stretches, exposing more of her stomach and the scalloped lower edge of the black lace bra beneath it. The distressed black shorts fit snugly around her hips as she leans forward, their frayed hems sitting high on her thighs, and when she straightens, she catches your eyes moving back up to her face.

She smiles.

“You sure you don’t need anything else, babe?” the bartender asks.

You grin. “I think I’m good,” you reply.

“Alright,” the bartender says. “You know where to find me.”

She gives you one last smile before turning away, her dark hair falling down her back as she walks toward the other end of the bar. Your eyes inevitably drop to the tight black denim again.

Steve watches her leave and takes a drink.

“She’s hot,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” you reply.

He looks at you.

“Not your dad’s girlfriend hot, apparently,” Steve says.

“There it is,” you reply with a laugh.

“I’m gonna get some mileage out of this,” Steve says.

“I figured,” you reply.

As the night continues, the drinks start adding up. You’re nowhere near wasted, but by the time you check the time again, you can definitely feel them. You’re relaxed, warm, and noticeably buzzed.

“Fuck, it’s late,” you say.

Steve checks the time.

“Yeah, it is,” Steve replies. “I should probably get home too before my girlfriend starts wondering if I left town again.”

“You should probably remind her what you look like,” you say.

“Seriously,” Steve replies. “I’m gonna walk through the door and have to introduce myself.”

You laugh as you finish the last of your drink.

“Good seeing you, man,” you say.

“You too,” Steve replies. “We need to stop waiting this long.”

“Tell your job that,” you say.

“I’ve tried,” Steve replies. “They don’t give a shit.”

You both leave some cash on the bar and head outside together. The cooler night air hits you as soon as you step out, and after spending the last few hours inside the crowded bar, the sidewalk feels almost strangely quiet.

“Alright, man. I’m out,” Steve says.

“Drive safe,” you reply.

“You too,” Steve says. “And seriously, good seeing you.”

“You too,” you reply.

He heads toward his car, and you watch him go for a few seconds before turning toward yours. You make it a few steps before slowing down. Now that Steve is gone, you realize you still haven’t completely gotten the bartender out of your head.

You glance back toward the bar. Through the front window, you can see her still working behind the counter. She moves between customers with her long dark hair falling around her shoulders, grabbing bottles and talking to someone sitting at the bar. From out here, it’s her face that catches your attention more than anything. She really is fucking gorgeous. Her big brown eyes, smoky makeup, dark hair, and glossy lips all fit together almost perfectly, and when she smiles at whatever the customer says, you find yourself standing there watching her for another few seconds.

She really is your type. Maybe even more obviously than you wanted to admit when Steve called you out on it. The dark hair, huge brown eyes, gorgeous face, and that body would have gotten your attention anywhere. Even after spending half the night staring at her ass, seeing her through the window makes you realize her face might be what you like most about her.

Your mind goes back to Kelly, and the comparison is almost funny because they look nothing alike. Kelly has the older, fuller, curvier body that you’ve been obsessed with for a while. The bartender is slimmer and younger, with smaller tits, a tighter waist, and that plump round ass packed into those black denim shorts. Completely different, but somehow just as fucking sexy to you.

Apparently your type has a little more range than Steve gives you credit for, but the bartender still checks almost every box you’ve always had.

She’s also been flirting with you all night, calling you babe and making it pretty obvious that she doesn’t mind your attention. You could easily walk back through that door, sit down for another few minutes, and see where it goes.

Then Kelly crosses your mind.

You’re not dating her, and neither of you ever said anything about being exclusive. Still, after everything that happened between you two and the fact that you both admitted you want it to happen again, going back inside suddenly feels like more of a decision than it probably should.

You stand outside for another moment, looking through the window at the bartender before glancing toward your car.

You could go back inside.

Or you could go home.