My (30f) Superbowl Party

I show up at the bar to watch the Super Bowl and you happen to be drinking there. This one isn’t a straight rail, it’s round with the tenders in the middle. It’s a little later in the night, after half time. We’re both loosened up and having a good night with our friends. You spot me as I walk up, smiling until I find my seat across from you. I break eye contact to order, but my eyes soon fall on you again, hoping to find you looking my way. It’s hard for you to pull your eyes away. I see you say something to your friends and I see the group turn all their eyes on me.

You get up and make your way across the bar, eye locked on me as you approach. I watch from behind my glass as you near, subtly adjusting how I’m sitting. My body language is open, I’m hoping you are feeling flirtatious. You gesture at the dart boards behind my group and suggest we play a game.

I watch you hit a bullseye on your second try and comment, “Always amazes me. The dart never does what I want it to.” You hold the darts in front of yourself and give you a half smile, “Care to show me your form? Maybe I can give you a pointer or two.”

A smile spreads across my face, “If im going to show you my form, we should make things interesting. I’ll take three shots, you take three shots. Lowest score buys the other’s next drink. Deal?”

“I’m always open to put a little skin in the game. Ladies first?”

“I suppose…” I trail off innocently, taking the darts into my hand. My form isn’t great yet somehow, by the grace of chaos, I nail near bullseye, then twice in the center. I collect them to bring to you and shrug, “See? I was going for the damsel thing.” I hand the darts to you, eyes alight with challenge.

You let your hand linger on mine and drag your fingers across mine as you pull the darts away. “Is this a hustle, sweetheart?” You throw the three darts. 2, 1, wall… “That’s pretty low…looks like I owe you a drink. The least you can do is be my escort… To order the drinks. Your wish is my command; what would you like?”

“I’ll take a blueberry moscow mule pretty please,” I answer leaning over the rail, my backached and one of my legs propped up. When you order, I study your profile, your arms, biting my lip at your hands and fingers. My mind drifts to what they might feel like on me. I see you steal a glance at my curves and the skin I am flaunting. Are you imaging what I would feel like in your hands?

You raise god voice over the din, “A blueberry Moscow Mule and a Guinness!” You lean into my ear and ask, “You don’t mind if I keep you away from your friends a bit longer, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” I say with another smile.

You gesture over to some seats and place one hand on the small of my back as I maneuver through the crowd. “Who are you routing for this evening?”

I subtly press into your touch, enjoying the warmth. “Oh, my friend and I were just hoping to see sweaty men slam into all the appropriate people until completion…How about you?” I ask as we take a seat. I cross my legs toward you, leaning in to our conversation.

You lean in, place a hand on my shoulder, and speak into my ear. It is loud… But not quite that loud… “My friends and I are out to enjoy the game and people watch. Watching is nice but interacting is even better.”

“I also prefer to be apart of the action,” I turn my face slightly toward you. My eyes flick from your mouth to meet your eyes.

You look at my lips and I hear last call. I see my friends wave to you. You sigh, “It looks like my friends are calling it a night. Seems like it went by so fast, I don’t want it to end quite yet… If you care for another drink, I believe I have ginger beer and vodka back at my place. I promise you action if that is a requirement for you.”

“I could go for another. Action isnt required, it’s just a bonus.” I wink as I stand. “Let me just say goodbye quick.” I give hugs and kisses and then head back your way. “I hope you dont mind giving me a lift there? I caught a ride here with my friend.”

“Not at all. My car is around the corner. I’ll lead the way.” I take your hand lightly as I wind through the crowd. “Care to take control and play DJ on the way, or would you rather be at my mercy?”

My skin flushes and my heart skips a beat, “Being at your mercy does sound intriguing, but I think I kind of like the idea of setting the stage for the night.”

We get everything set up in your car and I start playing sounds from one of my playlists. Starting with Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea. As you drive us back to your place, I lean back into my seat, my head tipped back against the rest. My eyes fall to your lap. Watching as the shadows from streetlights race across. You are listening to the song, see your legs, and how you lean into the seat…I see a bulge begin to form in your pants and you shift to keep it from being too noticeable. You clear your throat, “You certainly have a way of conjuring a certain mood. Kinda intense…”

“So I’ve been told,” I chuckle. “I always have wondered how intense when I actually feel free, ya know?”

“Don’t let me stop you from feeling free. I may do so myself.” You tease as you unbutton a single button off your shirt.

My head tilts. I can’t help but see a challenge. And I always meet a challenge. I slip my coat off. I see the look in your eyes and know the challenge is accepted. “Mind holding the wheel for a moment?” I wrap my fingers are the wheel and feel the thrill as you remove your hands and then your shirt. You raise an eyebrow. “Feeling free enough yet?”

I’m wearing way less clothes than him, I realize. Time to make the leap…I smirk as I grab the hem of my crop top and pull it off. And I’m not wearing a bra. You swerve a little, not expecting the move. I can tell it takes everything you have not to stare and run off the road. “Your move,” I whisper. I see your mind spinning and the bulge in your pants becomes obvious.

End of Part 1…

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