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Living alone that summer was a drag. I was working a summer intern job between my Junior and Senior year, but since I had never lived in that city and had no friends there, I couldn’t figure out anything to do. So one Saturday night I went to a club downtown one of the guys at work had talked about.As soon as I walked in I could see this was not your standard place. There were tables, a bar, but no dance floor. There were TV screens with what appeared to be music videos and some stand-up tables where people were congregating alone or in small clusters. The decoration was somewhat upscale. Definitely not your usual beer-and-dance place. It felt very adult but still seemed like a meat market, but where the meat was all nicely dressed.I was relieved I had put on khakis and button shirt, for my usual polo shirt and jeans would have been very much out of place here. As I walked in, a guy at the door who worked there looked me over, then looked away. I hesitated to call him a bouncer since he was pretty slender, but I assumed he most likely had a gun under his coat. Apparently, I fit the profile so he let me come in.I was feeling very out of my depth, for it felt I wasn’t old enough for this place, but didn’t want to turn and leave and look like a dork. So I pressed on to the bar and ordered a beer. Looking over I could see all beer was on tap; a sign of a high-class establishment.I wandered over to one of the stand-up tables and started surveying the crowd. They looked like young professionals, in their late twenties to early thirties, all dressed as I was in slacks and shirts. It was very much not a usual bar crowd. Looking closer, I saw the crowd was split about evenly gender-wise, although most of the women were in tight knots while the men were mostly alone or in pairs. Also, the women appeared slightly older…I watched for about half an hour, and the social dynamic appeared to be women splitting off from their tight knots and striking up a conversation with one of the men, or pairs of men. I had never been to a place where the women always made the first move. I also noticed that I was very much the youngest one there, by several years, and my suspicions about the women being older were proved correct.As far as I could tell this was where young urban professional males would come for a hook-up with older women who were looking for the same. I took it the older women were mostly divorced but wondered if some were on a ‘girls’ night out’ Göztepe Escort from uninterested spouses. The latter would later be confirmed in an interesting way.I was starting to feel way out of place, so I had a passing waitress bring me another beer. I figured I would nurse that, then leave after I had been there an hour. That seemed a decent interval in the unlikely case that I would ever return.I was minutes away from leaving when I heard a voice from below say, “Hi”.I turned, then had to look down. The voice belonged to a woman who couldn’t have been over five-feet-three-inches, and I’d say was in her early thirties. She was very Latina, with a full head of short wavy dark hair, and a very pleasant but slightly acne-scarred face (well, we had that in common).She was slightly heavy, but I’d say more curvy than overweight, but she had a nice pair of breasts which created a nice cleavage. She was wearing a nice blue dress which clung to her form nicely without looking slutty. Overall, she was very attractive.”Well, hi,” I replied, then moved over slightly to create room for her at the table. This wasn’t necessary but was a classy move, kind of out of character for me. Also, I only said ‘hi’ and didn’t start rolling out idiot remarks immediately.”I’ve never seen you here before,” she said as she went up to the table and put a wine glass on it.”Yes, my first time,” I replied, noting how the table came just below her cleavage but was waist-high to me. I went on, saying, “it’s an interesting place, not what I expected. I feel kind of out of place.”This kind of flowed out of me, for I had decided that truthfulness was probably in order for an older woman. It seemed they could smell non-authenticity, or maybe that’s just my mother.She smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s kind of a meat-market, but I like that it doesn’t have dancing. I hate dancing.””I couldn’t agree more,” I replied, “oh, and my name’s Lance.””Deirdre,” she said, taking a drink from her glass. I could tell she was looking for a response.”Great. You’re the first Deirdre I’ve met,” I replied, “another milestone in my life.” That seemed a dumb response but brought a chuckle from Deirdre.”You work in the city?” she asked.”For the summer,” I replied. I told her how I went to university and was working as a summer intern at a local research lab.She kind of perked up at that. She also shifted on her feet, which I took as a hint. I glanced around a spied Göztepe Escort Bayan an empty table.”Would you like to sit down?” I asked.”Oh, yeah,” she said, “I feel like I’ve been on my feet all day.”We sat and I ordered a beer and another wine from the waitress, then plumped a twenty on her tray when they came. That was a heavy tip but seemed like the thing to do. Deirdre and I talked for almost an hour.Finally, she took off her pumps and started rubbing one of her feet.”I don’t want to seem creepy,” I finally said on a whim, “but would you like me to do that? “She smiled kind of uncertainly. “Do you give good foot massages?” she asked.”Well, we can both find out,” I replied. She laughed, leaned back in her chair, and put both feet on my lap.’Now what?’ I thought for I hadn’t expected her to take me up on my offer. Anyway, I didn’t pause, but took one foot in my hands and started rubbing them the way I thought I’d like to have mine rubbed when they were sore. I focused on just her feet for several minutes, then looked up at Deirdre, then took a look around. She was very much enjoying what I was doing, but there were a few people around the club giving me odd looks. Once again I felt rather out of place.”Looks like I’m putting on a show for everyone,” I said with a chuckle. Deirdre looked around.”Oh don’t pay any attention, they’re just jealous,” she replied, “keep going, that feels wonderful. I was helping at my son’s soccer camp and was on my feet most of the day.”I thought there must have been a story there and asked how many children she had. Deirdre just closed her eyes and cooed happily, which I took as a sign she didn’t want to discuss it.After about ten minutes of foot massage, I thought I would try something.”Would you like to go somewhere quieter, and a little less nosy,” I asked, gesturing to the people staring at what we were doing, “I think I passed a café down the street on the way here.”Deirdre opened her eyes. “Oh, that place is closed by now,” she said. She took her feet off my lap and began putting her pumps back on. “Do you live close by?” she asked.Damn! I didn’t expect that, but I think I was able to suppress any hint of surprise on my face, and coolly replied, “No, I live in an apartment at 21st and Coswell, down by the river.”Deirdre brightened at that. “That’s fine. Could you take me there?” she asked as she stood.”Sure!” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. Escort Göztepe I failed for Deirdre laughed, then walked back to where two other women were sitting, talking to two men. She spoke to one briefly, then handed her what appeared to be car keys from her pocketbook which she had left there (I assume they were friends of hers) then walked back to me.She took my hand, smiled, and said, “Lead the way.”We went to the parking garage and Deirdre stopped as I unlocked my early model Ford.”Is this yours?” she asked, with a slight hint of distaste.”Yeah, afraid so,” I replied, “When you’re a starving college student you have to set certain priorities, and a new car isn’t one. It’s the first purchase I intend to make once I graduate and have a job.””Oh, makes sense,” She chuckled, and she slid in with me holding the door. She didn’t unlock my door but once inside, she slid over on the bench seat (as I said, an older car) and sat right next to me, with her hip against mine. I decided not to mention how she wasn’t wearing a seat belt.The drive to my place was quiet. Once we were on the freeway Deirdre put her hand on my leg and began running it up and down. When I got off at my exit she asked, “How far now?””Maybe five minutes,” I said, wondering why she asked. I found out a minute later when she ran her hand furtively up between my swelling male member and my leg, then a moment later did it again. I looked down and she looked up at me and smiled.”Ever done it with a Puerto Rican girl?” she asked, quietly.So that’s where she’s from, I thought. I hadn’t thought to ask her. I just smiled, shook my head, then said, “I guess that’s about to change.”I had just stopped at a stop sign, and Deirdre opened her mouth. I leaned down and we met in a pretty wet kiss which lasted for a good half-minute. When we stopped she said, “you bet it is”.We pulled up and I warned her the place was small – just a one-room efficiency.”Does it have a bed?” she asked coyly before we left the car.”Of course,” I replied.And she said, “then no problem.”We went inside and Deirdre took a look around. She went into the kitchen and said, “Where are your glasses?”I told her and she got a glass of water and took a long time drinking it. She then said, “I need to use your bathroom,” and disappeared before I could say anything. When she came out a moment later she walked up to me, turned, and said, “unzip me.”I did as she asked, slowly pulling her zipper down as she held her hair out of the way. She turned and shucked out of her dress, and laid it on the chair next to the bed. She was wearing a garter belt and hosiery, plus panties and a bra. The sight of her breast tops made my mouth run dry. She sat on the bed and started undoing her hose from her garter belt.
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