THE PEPPERMINT TWIST

I had been making eye contact all night with the ridiculously gorgeous bartender at my Christmas party so I was pleased to see her lingering behind after the last guest left. I was captivated by this amazing looking creature. Lustrous dark hair framed her perfect face and caressed her shoulders. Her skin was radiant with a glowing tan and her lips were full, revealing sparkling teeth when she smiled. But the most striking feature was her eyes – piercing crystal blue.

She wore high heeled sandals and a short dress of gossamer silver lamé – spaghetti straps, low-scooped neckline and backless – leaving no doubt she was without bra or panties. She was innately arousing and bewitching.

This was my first Christmas party since my divorce. My ex got our Manhattan apartment and I got our Miami condo. Truthfully, I much prefer Christmas in NY; Miami’s just too damn hot.

I made sure everything was perfect – the food, the booze, the waitstaff and, of course, the bartender. She worked independently and was highly recommended by my friend. I could see why. I knew nothing but her first name – Alexandra.   

So now here it was around 2:00 AM; Alexandra and I were alone, the guests and hired help long gone. Sipping my drink, I  looked out the open window at the twinkling Christmas lights on the street below while Alexandra finished up at the bar. 

Join me for a nightcap?” I asked. 

She smiled, poured herself a Smirnoff peppermint vodka and joined me at the window. We stood in silence watching the lights in the distance, the seductive Miami air washing over us. Her hair smelled of gardenias and I impulsively reached out to caress the silken tresses. She leaned into me and I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the intoxicating aroma. 

She turned to me and I cupped her face in my hands, rubbing my thumb slowly across her parted lips. I kissed her deeply, delighting in the sweet taste of peppermint. We silently stared into each other’s eyes as she took a step backwards. Slowly she slid her fingers under the straps of her dress. I watched mesmerized as the shimmering fabric slid to the floor like a wounded butterfly. 

She stood motionless, the amber light from the bar casting provocative shadows across her body. She was exquisite. Stepping over her discarded dress, Alexandra slowly walked toward me. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the sofa. She was delicious, insatiable … like nothing I’d ever experienced. 

I reluctantly got up from the sofa and went to the bar for drinks. Suddenly I felt a searing pain in my head and collapsed, catching a fleeting glimpse of silver lamé before passing out. When I finally came to, I had a blinding headache, there was a broken vodka bottle on the floor, my wallet and Rolex were gone and my wall safe was empty. 

That sexy little bitch had pulled off the perfect heist. Merry Fucking Christmas to me! 

NAR © 2018

CHANCE ENCOUNTER

Waves of glorious flaxen hair rippled down her back, swaying and bouncing with every high-heeled, leggy stride she took.

Never one to shy away from attention, especially that of the male population, she confidently waltzed down Fifth Avenue toward Saks, stunning in red Manolo’s and a parchment white dress. 

Admiring looks didn’t intimidate her; quite the contrary. They titillated her, challenged her to be more daring and quite a bit risqué. It was all a game and she loved to play.

As she strolled the avenue, stopping to look in this window or that one, she noticed the reflection of a man leaning drowsily against a parked car. Accustomed to men looking her way, she thought nothing of it at first but found herself glancing at the reflection once again. Sliding her Ray Bans a little down her nose, she gave this mystery man’s image a furtive peek. Intriguing. 

Repositioning her glasses, she continued window shopping, collecting all the longing glances cast her way and storing them in her bag like so many colorful Easter eggs. Every so often she’d linger at a quaint little shop or gallery, acutely aware of her mystery man shadowing her along the way. Now this is getting interesting. Slowly she removed her shades and gave his reflection a long look. 

Why not? Slipping her sunglasses on, she turned around to a vision that caught her breath … from head to toe the epitome of elegance and charm. Black hair, tanned skin, charcoal grey pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt, black and silver Art Deco tie and Italian shoes … not black but the exact color of his suit. Nice touch; the paragon of haute couture.

She smiled. He smiled. She turned slowly, giving him ample time to fall into place beside her.

She continued walking, no longer followed by a mysterious shadow but side-by-side with an intriguing companion. Together they would take the road wherever it led them. 

NAR © 2017

 Reposted for Fandango’s http://fivedotoh.com/2022/12/21/fowc-with-fandango-paragon/