A Friendly Competition Ch. 03
Author: byCMK877181, Source: Literotica
... I wouldn't have complained, but after the last time, I suddenly expected more. Oh well. If I planned on getting fucked by every Uber driver I used, I'd probably end up in triple digits in a month, and there was no way I had time for that. I shot a text over to Stacy in our own conversation.L: fuck this one is hard. got any ideas?S: if i did, i wouldn't be sharing them with you. but in all honesty, i'm fucked. what about you? I shut my phone down. I figured I'd leave Stacy in suspense and give her some extra motivation to fear her lead. I needed to complete my comeback, and I didn't intend to let the trifles of marriage get in my way. I had places to be and people to seduce. *** I sat at the bar, martini in hand. My eyes scanned the room, searching out potential targets. Sure enough, there were lots of couples scattered around the bar. I guessed at least a few would be oblivious to the nature of the establishment, so I had to be careful in who I picked. A couple sat down the bar from me. Early-40s. She had lots of tattoos, definitely open-minded. He looked like a biker maybe. It was a possibility. Aaand they moved over to sit at a table with another couple. No chance now. My radar pinged again. Late-20s. Both looked clean cut. She was sipping wine. He had a mead in hand. They looked potentially hipster, and maybe free-spirited? No, she was holding his hand tight, with a gigantic engagement ring on her hand. One of the ones to avoid. There was another couple, maybe in their mid-30s, sitting in a booth just a little bit away from me. I could faintly make out their conversation, and from body language, it was clear they were in some kind of argument. I looked over the woman. She had brown hair, cut down to the shoulders. She had a cute dress on, but there was certainly enough cleavage to be exposed to tell me that they knew what the bar was for. Her boobs were small like Stacy's, maybe a B, and her butt wasn't much bigger. She was cute and slim, without being supermodel beautiful or having a perfect hourglass figure. The guy looked a few years her senior. His hairline had begun to recede a little bit, but he overall looked pretty good still. His shoulders were broad with a slim waist, and the sweater and dress shirt he was wearing signaled that he (or perhaps his wife) had a good fashion sense. They were definitely arguing. It looked like they were trying to keep the volume low, hut her cheeks were flushed, and he was aggressively pointing a finger at her with an angry face. This could be it. Not only would they both be more likely to fuck me if they were in the midst of a spat, but they likely would separate from each other. I had assumed correctly. The wife picked up her purse and said one last thing to her husband before storming towards the exit. She strode right past me. She was about my height in those three inch heels. I needed to follow her. I couldn't let her get away, not when I had this great of an opportunity, and a chance to get ahead of ...