Felicity Baker grasped her glass and raised it to her lips. She was staring intently the bar area and after a while smiled at her husband who was sitting next to her.
“What do you reckon, the young guy on the left, or the older one on the right?”
Felicity waited for his reply. It came after some thoughtful consideration.
“The older guy, you may as well earn your reward,” her husband told her.
“Don’t you think he will be an easier target?”
“Not really, married men always think twice before jumping in.”
“What makes you think he’s married?”
“Gut feeling.”
“How long do I have?”
“The usual.”
One hour, thought Felicity. Just one hour. Her eyes opened wide and she smiled as she looked at the grey-haired man standing by the bar. She bit her lip and sauntered towards him, her plan of attack unfolding in her mind as she crossed the room.
Within five minutes, Felicity was standing proud at the bar. She had placed her handbag on the counter next to her, ordered a drink, huffed and puffed as she looked at her watch and casually pushed the handbag off the edge. Gravity loosened half of the contents as it made its way to the floor and by the time it struck there was a splattering of female artefacts all around her. Appropriate expletives left her mouth. She bent over but her tight fitting dress struggled to allow her to bend to pick up all the bits and pieces that spilt from her bag.
Helpful and encouraging words seeped through to her senses and she slowly lifted herself to look at the man that had crouched down beside her. His hands busied themselves, so much so, that Felicity just stood up and let him get on with it. So quickly – she thought to herself.
“Thank you so much,” she told the man next to her as he handed her the contents of her bag. She opened the bag so that he could drop it all inside. One item managed to escape the gaping wide hole.
“You didn't have to, but thank you,” she added as she picked up and placed the last item into her bag.
Felicity smiled, "My husband insists on me using them, but I hate them, personally,” she told him; both of them looked at the packet of condoms she carefully placed in her bag.
Marcus smiled. “Are you on business?”
Felicity nodded, picked out her phone and read the text message. An unpleasant ‘fuck' escaped her almost tight lips as she placed it on the bar; arranging it just so the words would be awkward but not impossible to read from his angle.
Marcus had to strain his neck a little to read the headline of the text, ‘Sorry to disappoint - can’t make our meeting!!!’
“Husband?” he asked pointing to the phone.
“Lover,” she replied. “He can't make it. Such a shame,” she continued shaking her head in disbelief.
Felicity stood upright, raised her head and looked into the mirrors at the back of the bar. She caught the man's eye briefly and then remembered her manners.
She turned to him, hand outstretched. “Felicity Baker,” she said smiling.
“Marcus,” he replied taking her hand, “Marcus Darcy, at your service!”
“Service? It would be nice if you were.”
With his heart beating, Marcus took the plunge.
“I would most definitely be at your service, as long as it didn’t involve what's in your bag. I hate them too.”
Felicity smiled, her head turned sideways to look Marcus in the eye. Moisture seeped into her excuse for knickers, not that Marcus would know that. Her nipples suddenly announced themselves through the thin fabric of her dress as her arousal hit home. I’ve got him, she thought to herself.
Marcus' eyes caught the extrusion of her nipples. His mouth opened as if to take one of them into his mouth and suck on it, but he remembered where he was just in time.
Felicity caught his intention in a flash, causing her nipples to extend even further with the added arousal.
“Between you and me, I think I would have liked what you were thinking of just then.”
Marcus let out an audible gasp before covering his mouth and stroking his trim beard with the palm of his hand. His gaze, this time more obvious, returned to her nipple that protruded, so unapologetically, through the thin fabric of her dress. He wondered whether she wanted him to bend his head down and suck one of them into his mouth – right there in the bar. He looked into her eyes and smiled. Was she playing with him?
Fifteen minutes had passed and Felicity started to ramp up the stakes. She sipped her drink and tilted the glass towards Marcus.
“Underneath this dress,” she hesitated for effect, swallowing her drink at the same time, “I’m just as wet as this drink-" she swilled the remaining drink around in the glass, looking at the motion of the liquid before looking into his eyes.