Looking back in retrospect, I rather think the best thing I have ever done was to confide in my new friend, Uma.  One afternoon I confessed to Uma while we shared salads at lunch, that my life had become somewhat of a drag - nothing really wrong, but nothing to get excited about either.  I had my job, my apartment, my car, my health, my education, and my friends.  But, on the downside, I was alone now and it was beginning to get on my nerves.  Patience is not a big part of my personality.

Uma is well-connected and charming, with a network of many like-minded friends who all seem to share in common one particular hobby, the joy of creative writing. She works diligently with her stable of authors, motivating them like a drill sergeant to churn out stimulating stories, narratives, poems, romances and humorous anecdotes on a regular basis which she lovingly maintains on a web site for all to share and enjoy.  It is very effective and helps many of her friends to relieve their frustrations and unburden themselves in this imaginative and resourceful manner.  She enjoys a varied social life, work life and love life.  She owns, operates, and often works behind the bar at the Come On Inn, her local pub, where many of her friends gather regularly to interact, flirt with the amazing array of gorgeous men who seem to favor the place, share a drink, start an affair, tell a joke, and generally relax after their individual daily frustrations.  She is the perfect person to go to for a serious confidential conversation, for nuggets of pure wisdom, friendly advice, a joke to share, a shoulder to cry on, and is not adverse to administering a good hard push in the right direction, or a well-placed kick in the arse when she deems it necessary. 

I had been partner-less of late, since being recently divested of a painful addiction in the form of my longtime significant other.  The relationship had been winding down for several months and finally gasped out its last dying breath six months previous to getting my new job at which time I had first met Uma.   I had shared with Uma my feelings of being directionless and aimless lately and so she had invited me down to the Pub to have a pint and meet a few new people.

The Pub was a lovely place, all comfy and homey, with an old fashioned gaslight ambiance, a huge polished mahogany bar and booths along the wall for privacy.  I felt at home immediately as Uma went about introducing me to some of the regulars who were in attendance that night, with special mention that the beautiful young man named Alex, in the jaunty fedora, gray suit, and cigarette hanging out of his smiling mouth, was strictly "hands off." 

The crowd was small but lively that first night.  There was Bud and Marie in a booth, Eris and Max at the bar.  Ann, Bou and Heather were together in a booth with their heads together discussing an obviously hilarious situation.  Sitting at the other end of the bar, concentrating on his scotch, neat, was a take-charge looking kind of guy in a beautifully tailored dark silk suit, a scowl on his handsome face, who all the women seemed to be staring at, named Terry. 

Suddenly bursting through the doors came a frightening looking heavily tattooed skinhead youth with a huge grin on his face and his arm around a gorgeous redhead. 

"Carol," said Uma, "I'd like you to meet Hando and Scarlet."  I shook hands with the lively couple, accepted their offer of a drink "for the new bint," as Hando called me.  I wasn't sure what a "bint" was, but he seemed genuinely friendly and I accepted graciously.  My first night at the pub was fun and lighthearted and I looked forward to returning soon and getting to know more about the regulars, a couple of the men in particular.  However, I was leery of stepping on anyone's toes, or invading anyone's "personal area" so, until I became more familiar with their personal histories, I remained somewhat shy about drinking with some of the more delicious men who offered to buy me a first drink.  I accepted, to be friendly, but withheld any vibes of, "Jesus, you're gorgeous!  Let's get it on!" which seemed to pop into my head fairly often as I met the pub's regular patrons. Maintaining a casual, proper, appropriate demeanor proved to be a real challenge on many occasions as I started frequenting the establishment more often.

One night, as a wild rainstorm lashed against the windows like a hurricane, I looked up from the cozy corner booth where I sat with Ann, discussing the divine delicacies of real Cajun cooking and its plausible effects on the libido over a shot of Jim Beam and a beer.  "What I'd really like to do is to eat my way around the world," I sighed rhapsodically to her, as I felt the hunger pangs resulting from my missed lunch that day. "You know, stopping everywhere, sampling the local food delicacies and specialties.  That must be an education in itself - all those wonderful tastes, textures, flavors, nuances, spices ....and - and... O-o-h-h-my-god ... Ann!  ... who, please, please tell me, is that!"

Ann's hair swung around her face as her head spun to see who I was indicating as in need of her immediate attention.  A slow smile spread secretively across her face, piquing my already interested curiosity.  "Oh... yeah....H-m-m ...  that's Zack.  Zack Grant, federal agent, FBI, G-man, cop, loner, no bullshit, outrageous, irreverent, funny, gorgeous, and a prick.  So ... fair warning ... be careful." 

"Well, that was succinct!" I observed wryly.  "Something you'd care to share?"  

"Uh, uh, sweetie, not tonight." said Ann evasively.  "But, feel free, if you've got the notion.  He's not tied to anyone.  C'mon, I'll introduce you."   She took my hand and led me from our booth over to the bar.  I silently panicked.  "No-no-no- !!!  I'm nowhere near ready to be this devastated!" I was screaming inside. But Ann was bent on her duty to make sure I got to know everyone in the gang and brought me right up into Zack's incredible, wary, intrigued, interested face.  His eyes up close were sea-colored and long lashed.   I fought for control.

"Hey, Zack.  I wonder, have you met Carol yet?" asked Ann offhandedly.  Zack turned on his barstool, smiled a crinkly-eyed smile, and offered his hand.  "Nice to meet you, Carol," he said casually, looking me up and down in assessment.  "Like a cop." I thought.  "Uma told me about you a while back, said there was a new face on the scene.  Glad to finally see it - you."  He seemed to stammer for a second.  "Can I buy you ladies a drink?"  Ann demurely declined and I froze like a deer in the headlights.  "U-m-m-m, thanks, but I have a drink over there, and I think I reached my limit about an hour ago."  I laughed, I hoped, lightly, kicking my own cowardly ass.  "Ok, well, another time, then..." he tapered the conversation off and Ann and I went back to our booth.  "Nice to meet you, Zack!" I called over my shoulder in parting. 

From that night on, and for many nights, I undertook a personal surveillance operation worthy of any federal agent.  From a comfortable distance, I observed the alpha male, Zack, timing his appearances, his conversations, and with whom, his blustery attitude, his tendency to leave a stool between him and the next patron at the bar, never appearing to get too close to anyone, his sense of humor when he chose to reveal it.  I marveled at his style of dress which was perfect, in my opinion, mouth-watering.  He usually wore dark sunglasses, a black leather jacket, tight jeans, dark sweaters or flannel shirts, only wearing a suit when he was obviously just coming from an official meeting of some kind.  He wore his chestnut hair long and ruffled and tended to run his hands through it often, as if to get it off his forehead.  I gathered information like a squirrel gathers nuts, my interest growing keener with every sighting of the burly, bearded, long haired beautiful man with the sad but angry eyes.  I asked nonchalant questions about him of anyone I was sharing a drink with and got many perplexing answers.  He had apparently been in the company of several of the pub's female patrons, but remained unattached.  He didn't mind sampling the wares, but avoided commitment religiously.  His apparent attraction to the women, besides his looks, seemed to be his brusque, challenging aloofness.

On one particular evening I was watching him from my favorite 'spying' booth as he was sitting at the bar with Eris, they both seemed to be stag, but were having a flirtatious, playful, semi-pissy argument about whether or not to slow dance, and, of all things, the pleasures of wine and fruit.  She had asked him to tell her all about fine chardonnay and kiwi fruit.  He seemed to bristle at her questions, "I hate fucking kiwi fruit, as you well know! You got that?  Like eating a peeled scrotum, and no, I don't speak from experience, so cut that out."

Eris pretended to shudder.  "So ... it's true what they say about you really having the occasion to peel and eat a scrotum!  Ick!  Ick!  I thought it was just a rumor!" she baited him.   She heard music to her liking and grabbed his hand, "Ok, get off your sunglasses, this is a perfect dance for us ... not too suggestive.  You might just relax and pretend you're having fun!"

She complained later about his stepping on her toes and she backed away, thanking him for the dance, and said "Maybe another time when we're both just out for some fun..."  He mocked offense. "Hey ... I thought that was fun ... maybe I need some classes in charm?  You could give me some!" he called after her. 

I enjoyed this scene immensely, laughing at their comedic interplay and decided to make my move before she had time to reconsider.  I squared my shoulders, walked over to the bar and slid into the seat next to him, giving him a direct appraising look from under my lashes.  I hadn't planned what I was going to say, just kind of blurted out,   "Hi, Zack, I've been watching you for a long time.  I could give you some lessons, if that's what you're into.  Charm?  Yeah, might be nice, but charm from you would be too much of a shock to people.  How about a lesson in smooth.  Could ya handle smooth, big guy?  You're so rough and ready all the time, maybe a bit of smooth would go down easy.  By the way, where did Eris go?  She was going to spot me a beer.  We keep missing each other... Oh, you will?"  His eyes were outlining every curve of my body in my faded tight jeans and laced-up-the-front blue sweater.  Not to appear too eager, I returned his assessing gaze but added, "H-m-m--- just the beer, luv, at least for now."

Eris made a return sweep of the bar area and said, "Well, well, Carol!  Here I was searching for you and here I see you have plunged in straight away with the g-man.  Kudos!  You are going to fit right in here.  Now, Zack, you be nice ... or at least be smart.  Make Carol happy she deigned to give you the time of day.  How about showing her those dance moves?  Maybe she won't mind getting stepped on.  Here's another beer, dear Carol.  From the look of things, it may not be unwelcome?  And speaking of welcomes, it's fantastic to have you here."

"Thank you, Eris." I smiled.  Zack blustered, "Charm.  I can be charming.  Take no notice of these women, honey, they bring out the animal in me.  So, Carol...what brings you into my life like a vision of loveliness?" He grinned and then stage-whispered to me:  "See what happens?  I try charm and everyone laughs...even me..." 

"Pleased to meet you, again, Carol.  Sit down and tell me about yourself.  Haven't I met you somewhere before?  Your face is familiar...'that was not a line!  I don't do lines ... or maybe I just dreamed about you...' ok, that was a line...first attempt, give me a fuckin break.  I'm trying here!' Just answer me this...kiwi fruits.  Am I the only one here who can't stand them?"

Bud and Marie strolled by and over heard this conversation.  Bud said, "What's with the fucking fruit fixation Grant?  That some FBI bullshit?"  Marie clamped her hand over Bud's mouth, whispering to him, "Let's see if you can put that mouth to better use!  Ouch, did you just say I deserved that, huh?  C'mon ..." Bud called back. "Nice to meet you, Carol!  Welcome to the Pub?  It's great you're here!  Hope to chat later!" 

Uma came up to Zack and Carol at the bar and said "Carol!!! I am so glad you dropped in again!  Here - I missed you before - here's a drink on the house... here ya go ... now how many do we need to get you so piddled that you won't leave, like you've been doing?  Ok, Zack, stop giving me the hint ... his bark is worse than his bite, you know, Carol?  Just kick him if he gets out of line.  Unless you want him to and then, well, get out of line yourself.  I get the hint...I'm the gooseberry now ...is that like a kiwi?"

I held up my hands pleadingly, "Who-o-o-o, three drinks!  Easy there, folks!  I'm a two pot screamer, as they say.  Three and I'm everybody's.  What's this obsession with fruit here?  I kinda like kiwis, Zack - y'know, all soft and fuzzy.  What's not to like?  Then, of course there's kumquats...and I dare y'all to make something out of that!  They're all smooth, n'pink, n'warm, n'non-fuzzy...but so sweet... Jeez, I'm getting heady!  (God!  I can't believe I said that!), maybe I'd better switch to white wine spritzers.  Uma!  Help me here!  H-m-mmm gooseberries ... y'can fit so many in your mouth at once ..."  I babbled helplessly on with what I prayed he would think was just quirkiness, not full-on dementia, but he seemed amused no end.  In a moment of panic I said, "Ok, that's it!  I officially shut myself off 'til I can behave and you're not all so generous with the libations.  But thanks, it was a great preview of more to come, I hope....."

"Oh no you don't ...no running away ...you owe me a dance." Zack interrupted, dragging me back by the hand.  "So you're a fruity lady, are you?  What should I call you?  Carmen Miranda...?  What's your opinion of bananas?"

I smiled up into his eyes with a wanton, throw-caution-to-the-wind feeling.  "M-m-m-m, sweetie, you look so good in that flannel shirt... N-o-o-o-o, please!  Not Carmen Miranda - but you could call me Passion Fruit!  I am ever so partial to lovely passion fruit and bananas, but I'm oh, so v-e-r-y particular about the quality of my bananas, y'know"

I gave him a look, rolling my eyes and licking my lips ... " The size, and shape, and width, and solidity and ... u-m-m ... What was the question?  Oh yes, you're right, I do owe you a dance.  A slow one please.  I seem to be a tad woozy here, and you're so big and snuggly to hold on to.  M-m-m-m ... you move so well, Zack... how do you feel about dried pear halves?"

We moved onto the floor still keeping up the banter thick and fast. I loved his quick fire delivery. "Pear halves?  Jesus, I'm still working on the solidity of the banana!  Let me think about pears.  I prefer them fresh...juicy...soft... maybe with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream?  I could sink my teeth into that - or maybe my tongue..."  He leaned in closer and murmured, "What do you like with your bananas?  Plain, unzipped, or with something to lick off?"

I looked up at the ceiling, appearing to reflect and consider,  "Oh my, choices - I do love choices...let me see...I like my bananas unzipped, moisturized in a thick cream, with treacly sweets on the end for licking off with my tongue - and - Zack?  Are you blushing?  Poor baby!  Never had a treat like that?  Well, you're in for a ....m-m-m-!!  Is that a banana I'm feeling between us?  Any by the way, look at a dried pear half and you'll understand my reference, my dear."

Zack gaped then cleared his throat, "I don't have much imagination, honey.  Any chance you could show me one of these dried pear halves? Or something similar - so I get the general idea?  Might have to taste it though....cream it up a bit ...now you're blushing....what did I say?"

We were moving aimlessly round the floor, still more intent on talking than dancing but enjoying an excuse to get closer. I smiled at him brazenly, "Blushing?  Moi?  Must have been all the grenadine in my fruit drink.  No, baby, I'm not blushing.  And I don't believe for a minute you have no imagination.  You couldn't stimulate mine so effectively if you had none of your own.  Tell ya what!  Let's finish these drinks and I'll take you to a little art gallery around the corner from here."  He winced.   I went on. "I know ... I know ... It's not your thing!  But be patient with me here!  There's a great Georgia O'Keefe exhibit that I'm sure will pique your interest and your imagination.  From there...well...fruits, vegetables, flowers, it's all relative.  With a little fertile imagination on both our parts, and Uma's permission to use the back room, I'm sure you'll get my drift.  Gee....you bring out the aggressor in me, G-man!"  I couldn't believe how outrageously I was behaving with him, with nary a modicum of shame.

He stared at me, clearly interested if somewhat taken aback by the directness of my comment.  "Lead me off....you want cuffs?  I can supply them... There's something about a woman taking control...   But, Carol, tell me this ... if I'm too easy, will you still respect me in the morning?"

I grinned, "No, my sweet, you won't need cuffs - I will lead you gently by the hand where no man goes undragged by woman, and you will not protest.  I think rather than cuffs you might need a bib - there's a lot to drool over, you'll see.  With all the pink, velvety, folds and petals, valleys and wetness, stamens, pistils, curves and labial delights, I won't need cuffs to get you to stay - maybe to get you to leave." That was a comment too far. With a deep growl, Zack pushed me towards the door eager to waste no more time.

"...Now!  Wasn't that fun?  Zack?  Baby - your mouth is still open!  Zack?  I'm over here.  We're ready to leave now.  Zack?  Ohforgodsake!  Your eyes are all heavy and glazed and...and...can we get out of here -  NOW?  Oh, Zack, you look so hot, I  think we might not make it back to the Pub... Zack...no...not here!! ...there's a time and a place, luv."  I struggled playfully.   All the while Zack had been trying to maneuver me towards the corridor that led to the rest rooms, his reasons appearing to be that he was about to bust lose and make a move there and then. Ducking under his arm, I managed to evade his grasp and dashed out into the night with him close behind.

"Did you see that stuff?" he blurted out.  "Sure it's allowed in public?  Not against some public morality statute?  They let kids in to see it?  You see what it's done to me?  Now that's real serious!  You wouldn't want to force a man like me to lose his control now would you? --  You would?  -- Where's that back room?  I'm about to bust loose here, Carol.... you ready for this?  By the way... I never thought of flowers like that before.... now I'll never look at one again without thinking of your pear half ....."

I chuckled to myself and said, "See baby?  I told you you'd like the exhibit - just knew you'd "rise to the occasion," running my hand firmly down the front of  his button fly jeans as he took his coat off back at the Pub.  He didn't flinch, just stared down at my mouth.  "And, yes" I continued, "They allow "that stuff" in public, it's called art - not meant to make you "lose control," luv, just to loosen you up and make you appreciate  ... certain beauties of nature....  Loosened up?"  I whispered close to his ear as we sat at the bar.  He nodded foggily and whimpered.  Suddenly he was in such an exuberant frame of mind he boisterously announced to the room "This is my shout!" and ordered a round for everyone.

A surprised 'thanks' went up.  Zack was usually much more reserved and frugal.  Uma went about busily refilling glasses, scanning Zack's face for any obvious personality changes.  I smiled surreptitiously up at him from under lowered lids, turned toward him, and v-e-r-y  slowly crept onto his lap, straddling him as he sat on the bar stool.  I began kissing him softly all over his face and neck in little hot wet nibbles that sent shivers down his spine.  He groaned and leaned into me welcomingly.  "M-m-m-m- so sweet, Zack!  Your mouth is so sweet - I could kiss you for hours."  I kissed up under his short, soft beard, running my fingers through his long hair.

"Feel free." he whispered throatily...

"Listen, hon, I know you've suffered a breakup recently, and I don't want to scare you." I said between kisses.

"Don't worry about it.  I'm a big boy." he seemed less inclined to talk than to make out. 

"You sure are." I purred, wriggling suggestively into his lap.  He breathed in quickly through his nose, bracing for more, not sure if he could take it.  "No, I'm not being facetious, I'm serious, baby," I continued. "I know about you and Scarlet, and some others, and your wife, and I don't want to put any pressure on you if you'd rather not be the object of anyone's fantasies right now." I meant every word but I was dreading a possibly negative reaction in reply.

"Are you gonna talk me to death here?" he said, his hand holding the back of my head possessively.  "Like I said, it's ok - I can handle it.  I can handle you.  Do you want me to handle you?"

"I want you in every way it's possible to want a man.  Does that frighten you?"

He ran a warm hand up under my cashmere sweater and cupped a bare breast, smiling mistily.  "Do I look frightened?"

From across the room Bud yelled, "Hey, you two, Jesus!  Get a fuckin room!"  Everyone chuckled.  Zack raised his eyebrows suggestively.  I nodded, licking his earlobe.  He turned his head to the side as I continued to feast on his neck and said, "Uma, darlin' - that key?  If you don't cough it up post haste you're gonna have a scene right here on the bar you don't want."

Uma grinned, "The key...catch!  And make sure you make plenty of noise .. frighten the ghost away, you know...?" As we turned to go, I heard her shout over to one of the younger men, "Turn the juke box off!  I want to hear part II!"

Zack grabbed me up into his arms, snatched the key out of the air as Uma tossed it to him, and headed for the stairs, but turned around just long enough to grab a bottle of Jim Beam off the counter. 

"My tab, Uma?  Settle up later, eh?" and we proceeded a tad unsteadily up the darkened stairs.  "I thought you were a JD man, Zack" I giggled, nuzzling into his neck.  It was a slow ascent as we kept bumping into the walls, one side, then the other, kissing, fondling, nibbling, chuckling like teenagers, until we reached the top.

I squirmed and snickered, "Put me down, love, or we'll never find the room.  O-h-h-h,...  y-e-a-h !...Oh, Zack, that feels so ... so ...no ... stop a second!"  Zack's lust glazed eyes barely focused as he found the room number, put the key in the lock and we tumbled in gracelessly.

It was a pleasant, comfortably appointed room with a big bed, antique chairs, and a bedside table on either side of the bed with lamps and single red roses in matching vases.  Narrow, dark teakwood blinds covered the windows.  We looked around momentarily, orienting ourselves.  I knew he was no stranger to these rooms, but it was the first time for me.

He gave me a scrutinizing look  ..."You ok, baby?  You look strange... second thoughts?   And, no. I've never been in this room with anyone before.  Other ones, yes, I admit it, but not this one.  This ... is...this time it's different.  You know what I'm sayin?"  He reached for me quickly.

I nodded against his chest,  "No second thoughts, baby - just give me a minute to absorb this.  I know you all know each other, you've been with each other, and you have histories n'stuff --  but ... you know .. you ...you're the only one I want, so allow me a second of jealousy here about the rest.  Ok?"

He smiled, pleased with my declaration.  "I want you, too, Carol.  God, you've got me in such a state - feel this -" He pressed himself into my hand.  I can't breathe!" he gasped.  I leaned into his hardness and began undressing him, one button at a time, licking my way delicately as I went.  He staggered back and hit one of the chairs, knocking it over, which produced a thunder-like bang downstairs.

Down at the bar, Bud looked up at the ceiling, his beer halfway to his lips.  "Oh, Jesus, here we go!" he muttered sardonically.  "Does he always have to be so fuckin' rambunctious?  Hope y'got insurance, Uma."

Uma smiled mysteriously, "What's the matter, luv, jealous?"  Bud took immediate offense at this since he was not exactly alone.  Marie was only off to the loo.  "You nuts, Uma?  No way, but do they have to kick up such a ruckus?"

"Let 'em alone, big guy." Uma smiled indulgently, secretly anticipating even more noise - her curiosity piqued.  She knew the bed in that room squeaked somewhat and she was evilly happy about that at the moment.

Zack swayed into me as he lifted my sweater over my head, mussing my long hair, and marveled at two perfectly erect nipples staring him in the face.  "God, you're beautiful!!!" he breathed, swirling his tongue around first one then the other of my stimulated nubs.  I pulled his head into my chest and stepped back toward the bed, missed my step, and knocked the throw pillow off the bed, which knocked over the water glass, which bumped into the lamp, knocking it to the floor with a crash.

Uma heard all this racket and bumping as she busied herself behind the bar and grumbled audibly, "That better not be the Tiffany's"

"Let 'em alone, Ums!  What, are ya jealous?" Bud repeated back to her with a smirk.  She flipped him off pissily.

We left the lamp and the chair and the water glass on the floor in our extreme haste to be prone and naked on the bed.  Our appetite for each other was overwhelming, and we partook of one another as if starving.  Zack entered me quickly, hotly, fully; the bed squeaked rhythmically and I felt like I was leaving footprints on the ceiling as he took me repeatedly to Nirvana.  I was so over-stimulated I couldn't think straight.  Zack did not seem to be one given to poetic outbursts, or to search out emotional or psychological truths when making love, but apparently this time he felt, as I did, that we had been granted the gift of discovering a soul mate.  He poured his essence into me with such force he nearly lost consciousness.

We lay facing each other, trembling, touching all the way from our lips to our toes, basking in body heat and afterglow, kissing softly as we gentled each other down.

"You know, I don't know much about you, darlin'." he smiled.  "Not that that matters at the moment...."

"Nor I you." I whispered.  "I know you're military, which suits me fine because I understand the mindset.  I am, too.  Well, used to be."

"You're shittin' me!" he burst out, genuinely shocked.

"No, luv, I was a Marine, and a Yankee ... a long time ago..."

"Now?" he asked.

"No, not now..." I snuggled into his chest, "We've got all kinds of time to find out who we are, hon.  Let's just lie here and ...." I stopped suddenly - a faint sound echoed in the air around us.  We both heard it.  Our eyes flew open as we stared at each other, listening intently.  Neither of us felt any fear, no hair stood on end, no goose bumps materialized.

There came a whispery, ghostly, feminine voice that mournfully sighed in a long, rapturous, soulful, 'O-h-h-h-h-h-! ....."  It somehow made us both feel extraordinarily blessed, as though our beautiful exchange of reciprocal love had been appreciated by someone for whom it was no longer possible.

"Jesus!  Did you hear that?" he whispered.  I nodded wordlessly, awe-struck.  We got up slowly, almost reverently, dressed silently and tiptoed out of the room and back downstairs into the pub.

Uma watched us approach the bar, all glowing, smooth-faced and freshly-fucked,  so obviously in love.  Zack apologized for the lamp damage and promised to pay for it next time we were in.  As he handed her back the key, he said casually, "By the way, Uma ... when you give out this key again ...to a couple? ...make sure they're really lovers.  She seems to like that."  He smiled at me then and with our arms around each other, we walked blissfully out into the night.

The following evening as we made plans to actually leave my apartment and go out for a bite of supper, Zack tucked in his Oxford blue shirt absently and directed sternly, "Ok, Carol, here's the juice.  We go into the Pub tonight as if nothing happened.  I'll try and stop walking like my pants are too tight; you stop lowering yourself into a chair with that little whimper.  You got it?  They'll think we've been at it all day.  Which we have, but they don't need to know that, ok?"  I smiled languidly up at him in a sort of  whatever-you-say-is-ok-with-me-mister-  way,  and nodded in agreement and we made our way to the Pub.

Once inside and ensconced in a cozy booth, Zack continued his micro-managing instructions to me  .. "Now .... try and keep your hands off my body tonight, will ya, in public at least.  I know that's a tall order but, hey, self-discipline.  Like me...you see?"

I gazed at him adoringly, serenely seductive I thought, running the tip of my finger over the knuckles of his hand.  He blurted, "Fuck, who am I kidding?  Quit looking at me like that - that .... way ... Jeez .... Someone get me a beer..."

I patted his hand and got up, moving nonchalantly, albeit carefully, maneuvering over to the bar and ordered us a couple of pints.  Walking, no, more like mincing my way back to our booth, I placed them on the table in front of him.  "Here's your beer, you gruff ol' G-man!  Poor baby, you look just a tad uncomfortable sitting there ... what might the problem be?"  I asked innocently, and slid snakily in beside him.  I began to run my fingertips up and down his muscular thigh, going higher up his inseam with each stroke.  He sipped his brew silently and looked at me deadpan, but his back arched imperceptibly.

"Woman, if you don't give me a break...so help me... and how come you're moving around so well?  Didn't I do my job thoroughly enough?"

I snorted, "Well enough?  Are you for real?  I can't sit...I can't walk...I ache in every muscle...want to carry me around for awhile..?" I whispered, snuggling in closer.  "Since this condition is entirely your doing, I think that's the least you can do, eh, G-man? .... G-man ...what's the 'g' stand for?"

"You know very well ....." he began.

"Yeah, yeah, I know ... but I can think of a few ever so much more appropriate terms 'g' could be an abbreviation for ... let's see ...good ...no, make that great,  giant, no, no - better, gargantuan, godly, generous, genuflect (that's what I want to do to you!), girth, geyser, gift (oh, yeah-h-h!), gladiator, glide, glorious, gorgeous, gropeable ...very gropeable ... and oh-h-h yeah ... growing! ... O-o-o-o ... now he's growling!"  I bent over my glass, chortling at my own word game.  He gaped at me as I proceeded enthusiastically. 

"You got some mouth on you..." he commented dryly.

"You didn't have any complaints last night." I quipped, running my tongue quickly around his upper lip - "Oh, wait ... there's more ... gusher, guzzle (that's what I like to do!).  He shook his head in surrender and silenced my meanderings succinctly with his mouth.  I stifled a laugh into his mouth.

"I came here to relax, you wanton little baggage!" he grinned.

"So, ok, relax!" I shrugged wickedly, "Who's stopping you?"  

He looked around the Pub quickly and saw several pairs of laughing eyes on us.  He groaned, "Oh yeah, we're doin' a great job here.  No one suspects a thing.  What is it with women and my body?"

I looked at him, eyebrow arched.  

"I know, you only said it because it's true.  Speaking of bodies - I hope you know there are laws about carrying dangerous weapons like that in a public place?  A man could lose his wits.  Look at me.  I even lost my virginity after just one look. ... I am not lying.... never did it before...With you," he grinned wickedly.

I straightened my shoulders with dignity.  "Now I suppose you think I'm just a cheap slut, hey?  I mean letting a girl guzzle on the first date and all?  Guzzle.  Great word that.  Sort of descriptive.  You get this visual of stuffing something rather too large into your mouth in a greedy sort of way.  I shouldn't have said that.  I'm popping off again.  You think I've got some sort of weird medical condition?  My brain's been starved of blood so much recently, it's a wonder I can even talk sense."

"You're not!" he observed wryly.

"I'm not? Well, there ya go .."

He attempted to silence my provocative wanderings one more time because I  made him so hot with my unedited stream of consciousness way of talking about him.  He drew me into a tight embrace with one arm and sucked my wayward tongue into his mouth.

I  'm-m-m-ph,ph'd!' with delight and snuggled against the wall of his chest, suitably subdued.

Life was good - very good.  

Fruit really is good for you.