Decker's Wood

I couldn’t help the arrogant smile that tipped my lips. “Drink up, sweetness.”

 

 

She looked from me to the shot glass and back again. “How do you win an award like that? Are there actually * eating contests in New York?” she said, garnering the attention of two men sitting close by. They laughed but thankfully returned to their own conversation. I didn’t elaborate or explain, and Andi grudgingly threw back her shot.

 

“You are going to have to explain that one at a later date,” she said, pointing her finger at me.

 

“Your turn.” I waved her on.

 

“Okay, the guy I lost my virginity to was gay.”

 

I considered her for a moment before nodding. “I can understand how a sexy thing like you could convert a man. No bullshit.”

 

She grabbed the shot glass, confirming her story to be true. “And I didn’t lure him over to the straight side or anything. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was gay or not, so he experimented with me. Not that I knew it at the time, but after our interlude, he decided he was very much gay.”

 

“His loss,” I answered easily.

 

“Go.” Andi grimaced through the after burn of her shot.

 

“I hate anal sex.” I found myself declaring. Andi’s brows almost climbed off her face and I couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Bullshit. All guys are into that, it’s like the holy grail of sexual intimacy, the forbidden cavern.”

 

It was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. The preparation needed before the act is pretty unattractive, and, trust me, if you skip preparation, it ain’t pretty.”

 

Andi tilted her head to one side, her eyes full of questions. “What sort of preparation?” she asked with innocent curiosity.

 

“I’m sure you can figure it out, Country.” She still looked utterly clueless. “Come on, you don’t want what comes out of that passage to come out during the act. A woman must clean the tubes first.” She seemed to finally understand as her nose scrunched up.

 

“Ewwww, Decker, that’s gross.”

 

I shrugged. “Some guys are into it, me not so much. I’ve done it, and I have to say, * is like a magnet for my dick, it can’t help but find its way back to its hole of choice.” Andi blushed and grinned. Her eyes had taken on a slightly glazed look. She wasn’t drunk, but the shots would catch up with her quickly if we didn’t put a timeout on the game. “Come on, let’s grab a booth and chill out back there. If we keep playing this game up here, I’m gonna fall off my stool.”

 

“I hope I’m not going to cramp your style,” Andi said as we slid into a booth. “Maybe I could be your wing-woman.”

 

I chuckled behind the neck of my beer. “This may surprise you, Andi, but I don’t need to take a girl home every time I go to a bar. I’m more than happy to just hang here and get wasted with you.” Andi winked at me and the action went straight to my groin.

 

“What if I want to take a guy home?”

 

Huh, I hadn’t thought of that. “I could help you out with that,” I replied. Andi just stared at me until I realized what I had said. “I mean, I can be your wing-man, if that’s what you want?” My voice lacked enthusiasm though. The thought of helping Andi meet a guy who she could take home to fuck pissed me off.

 

Andi laughed. “I don’t need to take a guy home every time I go to a bar,” she echoed my words. “So, here’s to us hanging out and getting as drunk as a fiddler’s bitch.” Andi raised her beer and I clinked mine against hers. “I hope you can keep up,” she added.

 

“Country, I wasn’t born, I was simply squeezed out of a bartender’s rag. I hope you can keep up.”

 

It quickly became apparent that Andi liked to play games. She laughed a lot too, which made me more than willing to play along, if just to hear her laughter. While sitting in the shadowed booth, a new game had risen out of nowhere. We were picking random people and imagining what their lives might be like.

 

“Mr. Mustache, six o’clock.” I followed her gaze to a cheesy looking guy, probably in his late thirties with a ridiculous looking mustache. “Porn star,” she said with a grin. I somehow managed to choke back my surprise. “Penthouse apartment in the city, struts around his house in tacky silk robes and slippers. Hung like a fucking beast too,” she added seriously. Thankfully I didn’t own silk robes, though I did have slippers.

 

“What kind of porn do you watch?” I wondered out loud, my hand trying to rub the sudden tension from my neck.