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Mittfagelkonto Christina Hansson Export 
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The froth formed on top of the blackish beverage. Smooth yet it looked impenetrable, hard, lazy as the resting wildcat in the sun on the barren earth. The bartender poured slowly, took his time to fill the stouts. The knowledgeable crowd could wait; they knew this art was a painstakingly gentle one, like making love to a virgin. Roger already sipped his drink, conscientiously licking his upper lip in the process to avoid a silly froth moustache. He looked around to see exactly who was there, and he noticed some familiar faces, but no one that he really knew. Shots were heard from the big screen; Friday action movie was on, and characteristic clanking sounds of pool from the back room. Fat Billy seemed to always win, no matter who he was up against: You could make out his common chuckles among the other sounds of the evening and see his broad grin as he bent down to try to pocket the ball. One could wonder how he managed, because he looked almost as round. Maybe the mere stability of the huge body did the trick. He had a good grip and a steady enough arm as he was also known for good marksmanship with his rifle. It was hard to give him a fair match, his temper could be hot but always relaxed and steady in this game. Roger watched for a while, but then continued to glance around the tables: The bar was filling up now alright, it became hot, steaming from the masses gathering inside on this winter night. He felt relaxed now, at ease, but he wished that Susan had been here too. She was like a breath of fresh air, or honey for a sore throat, so full of joy, such a vivid person. He thought that he was the dullest person on Earth beside her, but he knew that she made it so much easier to loosen up, be happy, he needed her. Really, that was so strange that she even wanted to talk to him, but maybe it was because he made a good listener. And with her looks, it was enough to just sit there and observe, speechlessly. And she had said she might come, unless she had to work overtime again for those crappy deadlines. Now the door opened, he hoped it was her, but instead, there were two other girls, gigglish, slender, definitely upper-class, suit-clad.

 

- Barney! Jabba-dabba-doo, here we are!!

The girls addressed the barman with an air of familiarity. Roger thought that he might have seen them before, kissing in the corner, making out as well as they could in the shield of darkness. Who were they? Barney knew pretty well what they wanted, he poured the Martinis, showing off all of his barroom artistry.

- There you go, sweeties!

- Have you missed us, Barrneyy?

The one who seemed a little younger gave him a wink and a brief kiss on his cheek. Barney smiled, you could notice he was happy for their attention, a look of arousal came upon him.

- Yes, my little doves, how are you doing tonight?

- Ah, very well, thank you, the older one said. We thought this would be a good place for us to spend the evening. But I do hope the other girls show up, too! How are we going to really amuse ourselves otherwise?

- I can help you, Amanda love, the younger girl said, caressing Amanda's hair, trying also to fondle her breast. They kissed very briefly, so as not to be unnecessarily noticed.

- Well chérie, where shall we sit? It has already become so full. But maybe there could be a spot at the usual corner table, where we like to sit, don't we, Daisy?

They somehow made it into the corner, after having to really pave their way through the now fairly cheerful but reluctant crowd of barroom guests. There were some sturdy guys sitting next to them, maybe construction workers, they figured. It felt a little awkward, Daisy thought. The men were sipping beer, chatting, trying to flirt with the girls.

- Daisy, this will be OK. If we kiss, they'll get the knack. But what the heck, it's fun to play a little game with them first.

Amanda raised her glass and toasted:

- Here's to....Friday!! Eh, guys??!!!

- To Friiidaaaayyyy!!!

All the guys cheered; they got the knack about this at least.

- It's a nice place, this, not bad at all!

It was Albert, the carpenter, who tried to start a little conversation with the girls. He was the youngest of the party, frecklish, a bit of acne. Not yet quite as sturdy as the others.

Author's Comment
 Just a try-out for a story.
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Comments: 1
twimagic
Will this #story be continued in your next posts? The beginning is intriguing, we’d like to #read more

 

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