Night Out
by Sonofjack; sonofjackwell@gmail.com
A self-proclaimed stud goes looking for some action


Here's a short story I that would not let me rest until I wrote it down.

 I write custom stories on commission so if you like my writing style and
would like me to turn your idea into a complete story, email me at
sonofjackwell@gmail.com

In fact, if you have any comments on this story or any of my other stories,
I'd love to hear from you. Email me at sonofjackwell@gmail.com

    I'm a pretty successful guy with the ladies if I do say so myself.
I'm six three with ruggedly handsome features, and I'm in great shape. I work
out six days a week and I've got the big muscles to show for it. I bench
press over three hundred and fifty pounds which is a little fact that I like
to drop into the conversation anytime I notice a woman admiring my huge
biceps. That's usually enough to seals the deal, and I've got someone to take
home that night - unless of course I spot someone hotter before the night is
over.

   A few nights ago I was cruising for some action. I decided to go to a
place I'd never been before, because a lot of my usual places were getting to
be too routine. I was getting tired of seeing the same honeys. I'd already
slept with most of the hot babes at my usually hang-outs, and I figured the
ones I hadn't slept with were lesbians anyway. I was looking for new talent.

   So I went to this new joint that I'd heard good things about and planted
myself at a table. I liked to sit at tables rather than the bar because I
liked it when the women came to me. I figured if a woman approached me first
that half the battle was won. Besides, if the woman came up to me, it showed
that she had good taste. It meant that she had looked the place over and
decided to go after the alpha dog. This also meant that she had confidence,
and I liked that in a chick - so long as she understood that I was still the
man and would be calling the shots.

   I wasn't there long before this incredible hot babe walked in. I
noticed her as soon as she strolled through the door, but, hell, so did every
other guy in the place. She was tall - I'd say around 5'10" - and believe me,
she had curves in all the right places.

   When it comes to women, I like to think of myself as open-minded. What
I mean by that is one guy I know will only go after babes with great tits.
Another guy I know only goes after chicks with great asses. Still other guy I
know prefers hotties with fantastic legs. The woman that I'm talking about
that came into bar that night would have appealed to all three of these guys.
Fortunately for them they were not around to be disappointed, because I took
one look at this dish and decided she was going home with me that night.

   When I say she had great tits, believe me. They looked like two, ripe,
sweet honeydew melons. They looked big enough to be fake, but there was just
enough jiggle in them when she walked that I could tell that they were 100%
all natural her. Her ass was tight and round, and her legs were long, toned
and shapely. She was wearing a tight, sleeveless black cocktail dress that
showed every curve of her oh-so-sumptuous body. The dress was so tight that
it even showed off her toned abs underneath her dress.

   It was apparent from those abs and the defined muscles in her arms and
legs that this babe worked out. "Good," I thought to myself. This meant that
we had something in common. It actually crossed my mind that this is someone
I could take to the gym and work out with. Then it occurred to me that this
was an unusual thought for me. Usually I never think about any woman beyond
what she'd be cooking for me for breakfast the next morning. This babe was
obviously something special.

   I watched her as she walked up and took a stool at the bar. She walked
with grace and confidence like a lioness striding across the Serengeti. When
she got to the bar, she ordered a drink from the lady bartender and then
turned with her back to the bar and surveyed the crowd. I figured that at
this point, she would look at what the room had to offer, and it would only be
a matter of time before she picked me.

   Much to my surprise this is NOT what happened. After a quick survey of
the room, she turned back facing the bar and began slowly sipping her drink.
The only explanation I could come up to justify this chain of events was that
the place was too dark for her to get a good look at me. However, there were
ways to remedy that situation.

   As if on cue my waitress came over to see how I was doing. I ordered
another seven and seven and told her to give some instructions to the lady
bartender. I told the waitress to tell the bartender to give the woman at the
bar in the black cocktail dress another of whatever she was drinking and to
let her know it was from me. I usually like to let the ladies buy MY drinks,
but as I said, this babe was special.

   Then I sat back and watched my plan in action. The waitress went up and
whispered to the bartender and then pointed at me. The bartender then made
another drink for the hottie at the bar and pointed over at me so that she
would know who was paying for it. The babe in the black dress turned around
with a big smile to see who bought her a drink. It was a beautiful smile that
lit up her gorgeous face.

   But the strangest thing happened. When she looked at me, I flashed her
my coolest smile, winked and raised the glass in my hand in her direction.
Her dazzling smile quickly changed to a look of . . . disappointment? She
nodded her head to acknowledge that I'd paid for her drink, but then she
turned around and went back to ignoring me.

   "Another fucking dyke," I thought to myself. "What a fucking waste!"

   However, things just got more and more strange. Just as I was getting
ready to blow that popsicle stand, I notice that some wimpy guy went over and
started talking to the hot dyke. I mean this guy was a real Woody Allen type
- short, skinny, thick glasses, thinning hair and arms that looked like
spaghetti noodles.

   At first I thought it would be funny to watch him strike out, but the
weirdest thing happened. When the Babe saw him she flashed that dazzling
smile again - the smile that should have been for me.

   Things just got worse from there. She began to lean towards him like
she was hanging on to his every word. I know female body language, and
believe me she was giving the wimp all the signs that she was interested. For
example, she kept touching his arm every chance she got. And she laughed at
everything he said like he was as hilarious as all three stooges combined.
She also kept giving him these sly sideways glances and even ran her fingers
through her short brown hair. She was giving him every sign that she wanted
him which was hard enough to understand. When you take into account that just
a little while ago she had a shot at me and didn't seem interested . . . . 
Let's just say that something did not add up here.

   Things were so out of whack that I decided to go against my usual habits
and to actually go to her to see what was up. I walked over to the bar and
situated myself between her and the wimp. "Are you enjoying that drink I
bought you?" I asked flashing the babe my warmest smile.

   "Yes, thank you," she said brusquely, "Now if you'll excuse me I was
chatting with . . . ." She looked over at the wimp for help.

   "Wentworth," the wimp said.

   "Yes, I was chatting with Wentworth here," she said.

   "But you don't have to chat with Wimpworth anymore," I explained, "I'm
here now."

   "I know I don't 'have' to chat with WENTworth," she said, "I was
enjoying chatting with WENTworth."

   "Look, Honey," I said, "I bought you that drink. The least you can do
is tell me your name."

   "My name is Sapphire," she said, "Now will you please go away?"

   "Go away? Now listen, Sweetie, I'm not used to women treating me this
way." I explained.

   Then the wimp chimed in, "Look, friend, the lady clearly isn't
interested so why don't you leave us alone?"

   I turned to the wimp and said, "Look, Shorty, you'll be a lot better off
if you stay out of this."

   "I'm just trying to save you from being embarrassed," the wimp said to
me. To me! Can you believe that this little wimp wanted to save ME from
being embarrassed?

   "Look, Wimp, why don't you just run along?" I said. Then I had an
idea. I thought that if I could show this babe my manly strength and prove to
her that I was the alpha dog around here, she'd get all moist and lose the
wimp in favor of a real man. I said to the wimp, "How about this, how about
if we arm wrestle and whoever loses gets lost?"

   "That's hardly a fair contest," the wimp said, "You're at least eight or
nine inches taller than me and outweigh me by at least ninety pounds."

   "Yeah, that's right, and my muscles are a lot bigger too." I said as I
flexed my nineteen inch biceps in his face. "So do you want to arm wrestle or
not?"

   Then I heard Sapphire behind me say, "I'll arm wrestle with you."

   I turned to her and said, "You? I'll admit that you'd probably be more
competition than the wimp here, but I'm not going to arm wrestle a woman."

   "Why not, you afraid," she taunted.

   "Hell no," I said, "I just don't arm wrestle women."

   "I'll make it worth your while," she said.

   "I'm listening," I said.

   "If you beat me," she said, "I'll go home with you tonight and do
anything you want me to."

   "Anything?" I asked.

   She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Anything; in fact, I'll do
some things to you that you've never even thought of."

   Then it all became clear to me. This chick was kinky. Sure, that was
it. She knew I was watching her all along so she pretended not to be
interested. Then she started talking to the wimp knowing that I would come
over there. She didn't just want to be picked up, she wanted to be
conquered. Well hell, if that was what she was in to, I was willing to play
along. With a body and a face like hers, I was willing to go the extra mile.

   "You're on, Honey," I said.

   Sapphire put her right arm up with her elbow resting on the bar. I got
into position and locked my hand with hers. "Whenever you're ready," she
said.

   I began to apply light pressure to her arm. Much to my surprise, her
arm didn't budge. I began to apply more pressure. Her arm still didn't
budge. Okay, so she was stronger than I thought. It was still nothing I
couldn't handle, so I began to apply more pressure. Only . . . soon I
realized that I was pushing with all the might in my strong right arm.

   "Start whenever you're ready," Sapphire said as if she couldn't feel me
pushing.

   "I am pushing," I said.

   "Really?" she said, "I can hardly feel it." I knew that she was
bluffing and that she would fold at any second, but I have to admit that she
was doing a great job of not showing it. She looked as cool as a cucumber.

   "Maybe you should use both hands," she suggested. No way! No way was I
going to give her that satisfaction. Only . . . the harder I pushed with just
one hand, the more easy it seemed to be for her to hold her arm upright
without it moving an inch.

   "Really, go ahead and use both hands," she said, "It isn't going to make
the least amount of difference."

   "Oh, it isn't is it?" I asked.

   "Not the least bit."

   I couldn't take the taunting smirk on her face one second longer so I
did start using my other hand. To my shock, she was right: it didn't make the
slightest difference. Then I stood up and started using my legs to push off
the floor. In other words, I was straining almost every muscle in my entire
body to try to push her one arm down, and I still couldn't budge it a
millimeter! 

   I was quickly starting to run out of juice. I was desperately trying to
think of something - anything - I could do to save this situation. Then
Sapphire said, "Okay, are you ready for me to start pushing back now?"

   "You mean?" I couldn't believe my ears.

   "That's right, I haven't even really been trying to push back," she
said, "But get ready because here it comes." Then suddenly I felt a terrific
force pushing against me. It felt like a tornado or something. I felt myself
being lifted off the floor, and I was thrown through the air. I came crashing
down on a table several feet behind me with so much momentum that the table
came crashing down under me.

   I picked myself up with as much dignity as possible, and I said to
Sapphire, "That doesn't prove that you're stronger than me."

   She looked at me doubtfully. "I'd say that overpowering your entire
body with just one arm - easily, I might add - does in fact prove that I'm not
only much stronger than you, but that you're not that smart if you can't see
it."

   "You must have used some trick of leverage," I speculated. "Or you took
advantage of your lower center of gravity or something."

   "Yes well, whatever the reason, you lost. Why don't you just be a good
boy and run along now." As a parting shot she added, "And by the way, I
didn't even use my strong arm. I'm left handed."

   "Bitch," I said under my breath, but loud enough for her to hear me.

   "Hey now, that's uncalled for. You lost fair and square," the wimp
said.

   I might have had to put up with the indignity of being beaten by a
woman, but I'd be dipped in shit before I was going to take any crap from the
wimp. I went over to him and grabbed his collar. I pulled his face close to
mine and said, "Stay out of this, Wimp!"

   I felt a strong hand grab the back of my collar. Sapphire hoisted me
high into the air, and said, "Leave him alone! If you have a quarrel, take it
up with me!" She threw me down on the floor and asked, "DO you want to take
it up with me?"

   "No," I replied

   "Apologize to Wentworth," she demanded.

   "I'm sorry, Wentworth," I said.

   "That's okay," Wentworth said, "I guess we all got a little carried
away."

   "That's enough drama for one night," Sapphire said. She pulled a
hundred dollar bill out of her purse and place it on the bar. "That ought to
pay for the damage to the table," she said to the bartender. "My drinks are
on dumbass here. Isn't that right, Dumbass?"

   Apparently I was 'Dumbass'. "Right," I said quietly.

   Sapphire turned around and said, "Good! I'm glad that's settled. I'm
going home." She took a few steps and turned around to Wentworth and asked,
"You coming?"

   Wentworth looked like he just won the grand prize on Wheel of Fortune
and said, "Sure!" He ran over and literally jumped into Sapphire's arms. She
carried him out of the bar, both looking as happy as clams.

   I got up and looked at the bartender and said, "Can you believe she
chose the wimp over me?"

   "Yes, I can," she said, "But then I know a few facts that you don't."

   "Like what?" I asked.

   "Well, for one thing, her name isn't really Sapphire" she said.

   "Go on," I prompted.

   "Another thing is she didn't come in here to be picked up - not by YOU
anyway."

   "How do you know that?" I asked.

   "Let me put it this way," she said, "Wentworth isn't the wimp's real
name either, which brings us to fact number four.

   "Which is?"

   "The wimp is her husband."

I write custom stories on commission so if you like my writing style and would
like me to turn your idea into a complete story, email me at
sonofjackwell@gmail.com

In fact, if you have any comments on this story or any of my other stories,
I'd love to hear from you. Email me at sonofjackwell@gmail.com