On Christmas Eve she'd ended up alone at the Main Street Pub in downtown Harbor Cove.
The place was alive with colored lights blinking around a honky tonk piano surrounded by patrons singing carols.
Nick, a guy she had a crush on as a teenager, sat only a few feet from her on the end bar stool working on a second burger and drinking a draft.
Despite the Santa suit, she recognized him when he took his beard off to eat.
Everything in her told her to say hello, but she chickened out and got the waiter to deliver her note:
Dear Santa,
Will you join me and let me sit on your lap? I have needs, gifts I want to exchange with you tonight.
Love and kisses,
Libby
P.S. Is a girl naughty or nice if she hits on Santa in the Main Street Pub?
****************
It was gutsy, but then again it wasn't.
If he was the same guy she remembered, he'd get a kick out of her note. And if he didn't, good riddance.
Despite her bracing up for rejection, the moment she saw him open up the note, she wanted to disappear.
Before that, he'd kept glancing at her from the mirror behind the bar, but now, his head hung down as if he was reading her note over and over again. Watching him, she suddenly found herself in the middle of a panic attack.
With a knee-jerk kind of action, she got up from her chair, left a tip for the waiter and marched down to the far end of the bar where she paid her bill and made a bee line for the back door.
Remembering Kat had dropped her car keys in her purse, she knew she could just keep walking right on out the back door and into the parking lot, but at the last minute, she couldn't make herself do it and instead, ducked into the restroom to catch her breath.
Checking out her looks in the full length mirror she wondered if Nick would still think she looked hot.
She asked herself, is my butt as firm as it was years ago, are my breasts as nice?
She hated the process. Hated looking at herself as a piece of meat.
Talking back to herself in the mirror she sighed, "Of course I'm a piece of meat, who isn't, but it's my brain and heart that gives it life, makes the soft fat flesh meaningful, makes all the meat beat."
What she was feeling went beyond lust, it was an opportunity waiting to happen, a chance to reconnect with her past, with a man she'd longed to meet again.
She had no choice but to stay and give it a chance. If he rejected her, she told herself, so what, it wouldn't be the first time.
She would deal with it later.
*************
Years before guys hanging out in front of the pub whistled at her when she walked by--Nick was standing with them--it was the first hint that he saw her as a woman.
As fate would have it, nothing much ever happened between them beyond the comaradae, they'd felt as children.
Before he left for the navy, they had two official dates and got real cozy once on a church hayride.
Then he dumped her for an easy piece of ass, a girl who stole not only the boy of her dreams, but her coveted job at the book store where the same girl seduced the owner to get her job. It had nothing to do with the quality of her work, but rather everything to do with putting out.
Nick told Libby he liked her a lot, but that she was too religious and he had needs. He didn't ask her out again.
She didn't deal well with Nick's rejection. He was her last crush and never again did she date anyone in high school.
Now, the thought of him being only 20 paces away made her long to be in his arms again and filled her with grown up desire
unlike what she'd felt as a teenager.
Excitement surged through her body, feelings of vulnerability washed over her and her mind was seized with visions of his hands exploring her body, Nick kissing her from head to toe, her making him moan and grown with pleasure as she satisfied his thick manhood she saw by accident so long ago.
Just thinking about him made her desire peak and sweep over her as she stood there in the restroom passion erupting--unable to keep her finger off her clit--juicy little climaxes creeping up and pulsing through her throbbing mound that ached for penetration.
She wasn't technically a virgin any longer, but it'd been so long, she felt everything must have grown back.
If what she'd experienced in the past was IT, if that's all there WAS, certainly life was playing jokes on her.
In her heart, she knew there had to be so much more. Hell, she knew what a climax was from pleasuring herself. From that clue alone, she deduced with the right lover she might even end up being a hot lover.
All she knew for sure, was that she was long overdue for the man of her dreams, to satisfy her, and she him.
Although untutored and untried in the ways of sex, somewhat of an innocent in the ways of the world, knowing Nick was near and hopefully available, made her long for him, want him to be her first genuine lover--be the one that would satisfy the aching between her legs, do her like a real woman wants to be done
--with authoritative finality in a blaze of continuous fireworks.
Pulling her panties back up and dropping her skirt, and washing her hands, she reluctantly left the security of the rest room and bumped into a man by the piano with a microphone in his hand--a black top hat and tails--looking for all the world as if he'd stepped out of a Charles Dickens movie.
Getting closer to him she saw it was her old high school art teacher. The kids called him Mr. Ebenezer to his face and Scrooge behind his back. He was an expert at getting on his soap box and ranting about anything and everything except sex.
He did "Blue Christmas" and not a bad job either. When he was done he turned and acknowledged her, said he remembered her from school, asked if she noticed yet that Nick was sitting at the end of the bar--that he'd be happy to see her.
Seeing Scrooge, brought back a flood of memories about his unforgettable teaching style, as well as the letter Ebenezer had written to her five years ago on behalf of Nick.
*******************
TO BE CONTINUED:
HITTING ON SANTA (PART 3)
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Submitted by:
Madison
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