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Abby learns more, and begins to assert control.
She burned out her rabbit last week and needed a penetration fix, but the pickings were slim tonight.
"And, I thought I wouldn't find a decent gal in this dive either."
Also bullshit. The DOM began to tap his skull in preparation to getting to hold up her end of the bargain. Two predators, seeing each other as prey.
They toasted and then tossed back the tequila with professional quickness, no need for salt, lime or body parts. DOM pushed the Cosmo towards her, picking up the beer for himself. He figured the older women were into the the Sex and the City thing, with the fruity Manhattan drinks and Manolo by the dozen.
Thundercat sipped the the glass, leaving lipstick marks on the rim. She grinned at the DOM, giving him her "sexy eyes". It was a signature move; she perfected it in her college days, when her monthly stipend from the parents ran out and she wanted a free ride.
He returned her signature move with one of his own, the "Veneer". It cost him a pretty penny, due to his shitty dental plan, but teeth were the business card of the social scene..
The deejay spun an old Depeche Mode tune and they were the only two that could mouth the words. A knowing smile and a clink of the glasses as they sung along. They made the obligatory small talk: names, hometowns, pets, and hobbies, sipping and smiling, oblivious to the atmosphere. The talk carried them to an empty booth in the corner with a fresh round of cocktails.
The Thundercat's game plan went to shit when she paid for the next round. She was actually enjoying herself. The DOM's strategy detoured when he began to take more interest in her words and not as much on her bulging bosom. When the small talk ran out, he dove in with both feet.
"So, how many drinks is it gonna take till we start being real with each other," he asked.
"What do you want to know?" answered Thundercat as she crossed her legs.
"Why are we here," with a wave of his hand to the rest of the club. "With these children." He scoffed at the last word.
The drinks took their toll and broke down the walls.
"I wanted some action." said the Thundercat, taking a look around the room. "People my..." she gathered her thoughts, "our age are already married, stuck in their careers, or reading bedtime stories to crumb snatchers."
"Truth be told, I could do better with a Fleshlight and hi-speed Internet." He glanced at the drunken stumble of a young girl, hand clasped over her mouth to stop the flow of vomit erupting from her tiny mouth. She was a prime candidate for the new CEO of BP, from the looks of her progress.
"Fucking, is what rabbits do, I want some good sex."
"Speaking of rabbits." Thudercat nodded in the direction of a tanned and sculpted guy a few feet from them. He was the last one to grace her threshold. "Don't let the looks fool you, he's a Ferrari with a Yugo engine." She leaned forward to light a fresh cigarette with the tea candle on the tiny table. "These guys take me to a drag race and I'm looking for the Tour DE France."
The DOM snorted, almost doing a spit take, casually wiped the excess from his lip
He put his beer down and slid closer to her. "You read my mind." He slid his hand over her free one. "Do you believe that I told this girl about my 401k and she thought..."
"Let me guess, it was a car." They both cracked up at the joke, leaning into each other.
Without another thought, DOM wrapped a hand around the Thundercat's neck and pulled her in for a kiss. She didn't fight it, pressing lips against his. It was drunken, sloppy, very consensual. He felt a rise that he hadn't felt in ages, she began to purr down below. Only the arrival of another round, compliments of the barkeep, broke them from their soaked embrace.
"Whew," said Thundercat as she came up for air. "I didn't expect that."
"Life is short and we're not getting any younger."
There was awkward silence as they let the statement settle in. After a minute, DOM got up and excused himself.
"The beer gauge is full, I gotta drain the tank.