The giant ice cube clinked loudly in his cut-glass tumbler of bourbon. Sat in a rich chocolate-brown leather chair he took a sip. This was his second — no, his third drink of the night.

As the heavy drops of rain traced their way down the thick window panes he glanced around the bar. He liked it here. He always had. It was near his office and never got too busy. The staff all knew his name and now, in his forties, he was delighted that the younger crowd never came in.

Tonight there was a table of eight office workers sharing drinks and laughing plus an older couple sat almost straight across the room from him, deep in conversation. Meanwhile, the usual reprobates propped up the bar.

Swirling the last of his bourbon, he debated heading home and his heart sunk. That would just lead to another argument, recriminations about his drinking and probably another night on the couch.

Signalling to the cute waitress, Kelly, he ordered another drink.

It hadn’t always been this way. He and Amy had fallen passionately in love. Then the first five years of marriage had been blissful, they’d were both successful and had even bought an apartment. But then the failed attempts at getting pregnant happened.

As he sat there getting more depressed, Kelly arrived with his drink. Smiling a thank you, he watched as she walked away. and thought just how much he’d like some excitement back in his life.

Savouring his drink, he observed as the lady rose from her table and headed past him to the bathroom and thought how lucky the man with her was. Her partner ordered another round of drinks — had she asked him to? Or had he just instinctively known she’d want another? 

Just then he was jolted back to reality by a bump to his left shoulder — spilling his drink.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, placing one hand softly between his shoulder blades.

“You’re fine, I’m sure it was an accident,” he replied, shaking the bourbon from his hand.

“Let me buy you another. What is it?’

“That’s very kind — it’s Yellowstone bourbon.”

“You’re welcome — sorry again for my clumsiness,” she smiled. Her hand lingered teasingly before she headed back towards her table.

Slowly she walked away, her tight, light grey dress hugged her body and perfect black stocking lines slithered down her shapely legs.

Within minutes Kelly arrived with his drink. He held it up, toasting the elegant lady who had bought it. She smiled back, raising her wine in response.

As he settled back into his cosy chair, the bourbon warming him to the core, he couldn’t help but notice the lady smiling at him over her partner’s shoulder.

She coyly played with her hair, chuckling intently at her conversation, occasionally firing furtive glances across the room. As the man ordered another round, he watched as the mystery woman sexily bit her lower lip, staring at him.

Before the drinks arrived, she stood up again and strode confidently across the room, never breaking eye contact with him. With every step, her slim hips swayed provocatively. Finally, she passed him and disappeared from view.

Moments later he felt her return, her tender hand once more pressed against his back. Bending down, her warm breath aroused his ear as she said: “I hope you’re enjoying your drink.”

As her hand left his back he felt something tumble gently down his spine. Reaching back, his fingers finally found it, just as she took her seat again. 

Bringing his hand forward, his eyes bulged realising what he had. Slowly he opened his hand, revealing a slightly damp, red lacy thong. Throwing his eyes towards the mysterious woman he stared as she seductively arched one eyebrow.

Gulping his bourbon, his mind raced. He was married — unhappily married, but married. She was clearly with another guy but she was hitting on him, of that, there was no doubt.

He’d never even thought of cheating on Amy — despite their troubles. But recently she’d been so distant, nagging and totally uninterested in sex. Could he do it? Even if he was sure she’d never find out? But it would be so fucking exciting. Finally, he convinced himself — he’d do it. 

How he’d do it, however, eluded him.

Finally, his temptress excused herself from her partner and sauntered across the room clutching an enormously-expensive Hermès bag. His eyes met hers and saw her red lips carefully mouth: “I want you, now.”

Descending the steep stairs after her he didn’t know what to expect. Suddenly he was grabbed firmly.

“I want you, right now,” she gasped, dragging him into the ladies bathroom. They fell into a stall, her eager hands pulling at his pants, as he felt her firm ass.

He tried to kiss her but was stopped.

“No kissing!” she said as she dropped her bag and tugged at his trousers. Quickly his cock sprang to attention.

Turning around, she showed off her perfectly round ass. Confidently she took his raging dick in her hand and rubbed it up and down her cheeks and wet pussy.

“Oh it feels so good!” she moaned, “God I want you to fuck me!”

Pressing forward, he desperately strived to penetrate her.

“Wait! Wait! I need to know your name first. Tell me your name.”

“I’m Rob.”

“Oh Rob!” she muttered, “Rob what?”

“Rob Johnson,” he gasped, eager to feel her warmth engulf him.

Suddenly she bent down, reaching for her bag — perhaps for a condom?

Standing up, she spun around, letting go of his throbbing cock.

“Rob Johnson, you’ve just been served,” she said, pulling down her skirt, handing him a wad of papers and quickly leaving.

His head spun as he looked down at the divorce papers neatly topped with a bright yellow Post-It note: “You might want to get a hotel room. I changed the locks today :-) Amy x.”