Friction
His entire body was practically pressed to hers and the friction between them felt like lava.
“You only came here to see that hot bartender you pretend to hate!” Petra smiled at Caro, as she grabbed the garlic-stuffed olive in her dirty martini with her tongue.
“Listen, this is the closest bar,” Caro said, watching Petra chew on her olive. “ And we both needed a drink.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, but every time we end up here and every time you tell me how obnoxious he is.”
Petra had her number, but Caro would not admit to it.
It was the closest bar, but subconsciously she knew that she went there because he was there. It was not a crush, she was just bored Yes, he was unbelievably good-looking and that could have helped her fixation with the bar.
But she would not tell Petra that.
He stood with his arms folded across his chest and looked unapproachable. Caro hoped he did not hear Petra’s loud whisper.
Petra was always loud even when she thought she was quiet.
Caro squeezed her friend’s hand and walked to the bathroom. She did not have to go, she just needed a minute. It had been a long day and there was this feeling she felt from the coolness of the bartender’s arms across his chest--he was not even entertained by her and Petra’s bar tricks.
After she splashed water on her face, Caro walked out of the bathroom. The bartender walked toward her. She moved to get out of his way, but he moved closer to her. His entire body was practically pressed to hers and the friction between them felt like lava.
He must have thought she wanted it, the way he pressed himself so close to her. The heat from his body caused goosebumps to her temples. The thunder in the background made her tremble and as she almost fell, he grabbed her arms so she did not.
“Excuse me,” she said and walked past him, purposely keeping the friction between their bodies as she pressed to his side. The heat of his body made her pelvic area so hot and her pussy lips so heavy she was not sure how she walked back to where Petra was.
“He fucking followed you!” Petra said and Caro took a sip of her wine.
“What are you talking about?” Caro asked her friend.
“He walked to the bathroom after you, I am not blind! Didn’t you see him?”
“You’ve had too many martinis,” Caro shook her head.
The bartender returned to the bar with bottles. Caro did not look at him.
There was no friction between them, it was like their bodies pressed together was a dream. She rubbed her eyes to see if indeed it wasn’t a dream, even though she knew it was real.
Another sip of wine and she still did not look at him—not even peripherally.
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This story was inspired by Kate Valentine ‘s August Flash Fiction prompt using the word “friction.” The image was inspired by this AURORE erotica article:
Thank you for reading f dot leonora!!!
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Wonderfully hot! So much friction!