She was tall and skinny. Her long blonde hair went halfway down her back, right to where her shirt wrapped around her. It was a hot pink shirt, that was kinda soft and poofy looking. It constantly teases the eye with the slight outline of her body, all the while, not giving that much info. It cuts off at the waist and there in about an inch space between the shirt and her skirt, which is a short jean skirt.
She is hanging out with a large group of guys and no other women. All the guys love having a beautiful woman with them, and she loves the attention. Whenever there is a lull for a moment, she stands there and looks like she holding back sadness. This is a girl who doesn't have a lot of self esteem and depends on those around her to help.
I was sitting in a booth with some friends. They are talking about relationships that are gone and failed and are extracting any important life lessons from the failures. It's an interesting conversation, but not one that I am very involved in. I lean in to hear the conversation, but more importantly, I just want to know her a little bit more. I can't hear her speak because of the bar noise and I strain to get any information I can.
I watch her move around and hang from guy to guy in her group. I watch her for hours and she never looks at me. I wonder if she is aware of me watching her. I wonder if I am bothering her or if she likes the random attention. I try and divert my attention to other things: my friends, other pretty girls, the music that is playing. Nothing is quite as interesting to focus on.
We've been there for two hours and my friends are tired. The noisy bar is very draining and it's not like the conversation they were having was easy to deal with. The exhaustion is obvious now. I am not done, though. The bar is so crowded now that it's hard to walk anywhere. There is a steady flow of people coming into the bar and we are by far the minority because we are leaving. I drive my friend back to her house and think about maybe going back to the bar. I don't have any money on me, though. If I had some way of buying drinks still, I may have never left the bar in the first place. As things were, I just accepted my fate and went home.
That night, my dreams were haunted with sex. My imagination was filled with images of beautiful people having all sorts of fun and me right in the mix. I woke up horny and uncomfortable.