Lots of fun St. Patty’s celebrating! What can I say, it’s a holiday that brings out many joys of life: Irishness, redheads, kissing, luck, beer, whiskey, music, and good friends. And now for a wee bit o’ erotic fiction, a quickie…
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His empty beer glass thumped down loudly on the bar, making Donna next to him jump a little and turn toward him.
He grinned at Donna, saying, “Even if I just hadn’t drunk six green beers, I can tell you’re hot.”
“Aren’t you sweet,” she replied with a smirk.
“And I don’t even care if you’re Irish or not. You’re still hot either way.”
“You’re such a charmer,” she replied.
“Wanna get lucky?” he asked.
Donna rolled her eyes, saying, “I can’t believe this. You’re serious?”
“Love making is not something to be joked about.”
She had to laugh at that one, especially with that expression on his face of being delighted with himself. “Now I know you’re not serious.”
“Oh, but I am. You haven’t heard what I’d do for you. To you.”
His eyes now looked a lot more serious, and that caused Donna’s eyebrow to raise and her to curiously ask, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
He leaned in, his mouth next to his ear, and his breath warm on her skin. He whispered to her so that nobody else around them could hear. The bartender, who had overheard the conversation, couldn’t hear him. Even Donna’s girlfriend, who sat on the other side of her, couldn’t hear him. He was down close to Donna’s ear much longer than the bartender and the girlfriend thought was really necessary, given the circumstances of a bar pick-up. The girlfriend couldn’t see Donna’s face, and she would’ve been very interested to see how Donna’s expression changed during the whispering, from frowning to surprise to skeptical to impressed to quite pleased.
When he straightened back up, he looked at her, making eye contact, and asking, “Well? What do you think?”
“I think we should get fuck out of here,” Donna answered.
As Donna and the guy walked out of the bar, her girlfriend turned to the bartender and asked, “What the fuck?”
“Don’t know,” he replied. “But my money’s on him backing that up.”
“Why? You just siding with him because he’s a guy?”
The bartender shrugged. “Why not? If he can whisper that long and get that kind of reaction out of her, then he’s got imagination. And confidence.”
“How about you?” she asked. “Do you have that kind of imagination?”
He thought for a second, then replied, “Let’s just say this: If you can imagine it, then I’d probably do it. And if don’t believe me, try me.”
A smile spread across her face. “You’re on.”