Paramour

Paramour

Status: Finished

Genre: Memoir

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Memoir

Summary

A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to. So it's best not to kiss and make eyes at your paramour in public, unless you want to be the center of a lot of gossip.

Summary

A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to. So it's best not to kiss and make eyes at your paramour in public, unless you want to be the center of a lot of gossip.

Chapter1 (v.1) - "Hope you like Jager"

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 26, 2015

Reads: 1140

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 26, 2015

A A A

A A A

Sitting in the corner of a bar, on the second date with a guy who seems nice enough, if a little bland.

We were meant to go to the cinema, but that was several drinks ago. In the haze of alcohol circulating round our brains, we decided just to stay here. The drinks are making it more interesting anyway. The bar has started to fill, there's an "important" match on today. I of course knew nothing of it, but I do know it's taking me longer to get served at the bar. I'm not the tallest girl around, so when I reach the front of the bar, I stand on the foot rest to give me that little height advantage and to make eyes at the bartender. To no avail though. I turn to look at the big screen and the growing mass of people trying to get served. Up pops these magnificent cinnamon eyes. He can't be looking at me surely? He gives me a cheeky wink and a lustrous flash of teeth. I smile back, just as the bartender approaches to serve me. Damn.

I order the two drinks for myself and my date, I turn back and my eyes follow the path of this dark handsome stranger back to his seat in front of the screen. I must be mad, or intoxicated, because the next thing I do, is turn to the bartender and order a jagerbomb. The bartender pours the bomb first, and I say I'll be back in a moment. I take the shot and walk with my hips, in the direction the stranger went. As I approach him from behind, I think what could possibly be the most alluring thing to say to go with this shot - who in their right mind buys a stranger a SHOT!?

I slip the glass under his arm and say softly in his ear "Hope you like Jager"

He turns to me, a spark in his eyes and mouth slightly open in shock, yet grinning wildly. He claps his hands in amazement "No way!"

My stomach is doing somersaults. I grin at him, turn on my heel and fetch the drinks waiting for me.

I return to my date with our drinks, but something's changed, I can no longer focus on this 'nice' guy. My mind is with those gorgeous eyes, the potential of the lips that produce that dazzling smile. Whenever I excuse myself to the ladies, I glance in his direction; every time our eyes meet I feel something inside, a burning excitement, more like hummingbirds than butterflies. As I pass at half-time, on another visit to the ladies, I'm invited to talk. As I approach him, I notice his glorious eyes are surrounded by lashes that would make every girl jealous. His skin is almost golden; he looks as if he is of Spanish descent. I need to know his name.

"How did you know I liked Jager?" He grins at me.

"Just a guess" I say almost timidly. What am I doing? I'm on a date! Who does this? I look at him, if his cheeky smile was anything to go by, he might actually find my current situation amusing. I keep looking over my shoulder, as if I might be caught at any moment.

"You aren't with someone, are you?"

"I am actually, I'm on a date" Honesty has always been my downfall, I half-laugh, concerned that he will tell me to get lost. I try hurriedly to explain that it's not going well and that I've been more amused by the tumbleweeds rolling past than what the guy has actually had to say. To my surprise, he laughs and asks if I need his help to get out of it. I say I should be able to handle it, but that I should probably get back to it.

As I make my way back to the corner where Mr. Nice waits, I construct my get-out plan. I pretend that my Dad has called and that it’s an emergency (I know, it’s an old one, but give a tipsy girl some credit). As we gather ourselves and get ready to part, I make moves towards the ladies once more, but so does Mr. Nice. Crap! I was going to let him go while I was in the toilet and he wouldn’t have known any better. Intoxicated and utterly out of ideas; I hide here for 20 minutes, checking make-up, my hair, anything to pass time, I’m so eager to gaze into those cinnamon eyes once more. I send a sloppy text from my hideout about having to run for my bus. Once I get a reply and know I’m in the clear, I cautiously creep out from hiding.

I reach the end of the bar as I realise the match has just come to an end. I order another drink as I glance round, to be sure Mr. Nice has indeed made an exit. As the room empties, I look over in the direction of where he had been seated. Just as I do, his eyes once again lock with mine. He smiles again and I walk over to him and his friend, whose presence had gone unnoticed ‘til this moment. I explain how I’d managed to escape and we laugh about it. His friend takes his queue to leave.

After we chat for a while and have a Jagerbomb together, he admits that he is driving tonight and that he shouldn’t have even accepted the first, but it’s not often a woman buys a man a drink like that, so who was he to decline? He offers me to come home with him. I’m intoxicated, but this is the most handsome guy I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with and he made me laugh, a lot. I have never done this before. I have never gone home with a man before, but something is stirring within me, I’m curious. What is it about him?

 

I guess I’m about to find out.


© Copyright 2019 ahstrayfullofthoughts. All rights reserved.

Chapters

Add Your Comments:

Other Content by ahstrayfullofthoughts

More Great Reading

Popular Tags