It was a slow Wednesday night — the kind of night when the bar felt like a secret only a few knew about.
Soft jazz hummed through the speakers, and the air smelled faintly of citrus and whiskey.
Hector sat alone in the far corner, half-hidden in the amber glow of a flickering lamp. His drink had been sitting half-finished for a while, the ice melting as he watched the world move in slow motion. Two tables away, two women laughed — their voices light, like the clinking of glass. One had a confident smile that could quiet a room; the other’s laughter lingered just a second longer than it should. They swayed gently to the rhythm, sipping from their margarita glasses, salt glimmering on the rims.
From time to time, Hector looked their way — not staring, but studying, curious. The warmth of the whiskey gave him courage, and when his glass was finally empty, he stood and made his way to them.
He leaned in just close enough to be heard over the music.
“Is this where I order my next drink?” he said with a crooked smile. “Margarita, right?”
They exchanged glances, shared a laugh, and nodded. Moments later, Hector returned with two fresh margaritas, setting them down like an offering of friendship — or maybe something more.
As the three raised their glasses, the laughter grew easier. Hector’s voice was calm, grounded, and both women seemed drawn to it. The eyes and gazes of all three of them mingled and as they clinked glasses, Hector put his arm around the shoulder of one of them. Her name was Angela. Then he pulled out a chair and sat around the table. Hector reached for both of them. Sometimes he would whisper something in Angela's ear and make her laugh, and sometimes he would pat Melody on the shoulder. The music picked up, and the lights softened into playful blues and purples. Hector took the opportunity to slide his hand over Angela's and Melody's bodies. A little this and a little that. Melody pulled back a little but Angela didn't. She laughed and said with her eyes that she wanted more. Hector's hands were caressing, and Angela's eyes got drunk with every caress he gave her, and she clung to him like a cold cat. The disco lights danced, and now it was time for Hector to take Angela's hand and invite her to dance. Angela quickly got used to the music and Hector's big hands, and she threw herself into Hector's arms and rubbed her sexy ass against him. Hector hugged her from behind and squeezed Angela's breasts with his hands until her eyes became drunker and more drunk, and alcohol and lust oozed happily from between her attractive thighs, soaking her underwear. Melody came to take Hector's heart and pull him towards her. But when he saw the intoxication and lust in Angela's eyes, he left them alone and danced alone. Hector grabs Angela's big buttocks and presses them against him. Angela doesn't resist Hector's hands and says softly in his ear: "Another margarita." As Hector holds Angela close to him and grabs her, he pulls her to the bar and tells Angela's order to the bar loudly and gently tickles Angela's neck with small kisses. Angela feels a puddle of water ooze out between her legs. She brushes her hair off her shoulder and looks at Melody to assure her that she feels good and that Hector is a safe person. Melody nods, still not taking her eyes off them and taking care of her friend. Angela takes her piss. She whispers in Hector's ear to let her go and then goes to the bathroom. Melody accompanies her. Angela remembers to pick up her bag halfway. She turns around and picks it up. Hector follows her with his eyes and a triumphant smile forms on his lips. It’s as if I’ve captured her. Those lips and cheeks and neck and her shapely breasts that fit in Hector’s big hands. Those lovely buttocks and attractive legs that make her arrogantly desirable. Hector also reviews Melody. He says in his mind which one is better? When it comes to women, is there a better one and a worse one? Which one is sexier and which one drives you crazy the most when you sleep with them? He looks at both of their bodies. At their hair, one long and one short. At their walk.
Which one did Hector want more? Melody or Angela? Or both? There was nothing left but the ice in Hector’s whiskey glass and Angela reached out to Hector again and whispered in his ear that it was time to go home. Hector paid his bill and said: I’m driving. Angela and Melody, who were more drunk, walked behind Hector, who was more sober, and left the bar. Hector opened the door for Angela and sat down for Melody. Angela sat in front. Melody sat behind. Hector gave Angela's home address to the navigator and they set off. Melody was praising Angela on the way home. About the food she makes and the bread she bakes. Angela, who had her hand in Hector's, said that we would get together at our house soon. I want to make tacos.
Melody put her hand on Hector's shoulder and asked, "Are you single? Or are you divorced like us?" Hector shook his head and said, "We are alone." Angela said that I have two teenage daughters, and Melody said, "Me too." But Hector didn't say anything about whether he had children or not. When they arrived at Angela's house, everyone in the alley was asleep. The lights in Angela's house were off, and Angela knew that the children were asleep at this time of night. Melody, who had left her car there, said goodbye to Hector and Angela and said something in Portuguese that made them both laugh. Hector didn't understand the sentence but he knew they were talking about her and what Melody was going to do with Angela after. Melody hadn't even started her car when Hector kissed Angela's lips and no matter how much Melody tried to see inside the car, the windows wouldn't let go. Now Angela had surrendered and given herself over to Hector. Her top strap had come loose and fell off her shoulder so Hector could suck Angela's neck and breasts with his big lips and taste them in his mouth. Melody was struggling to find Hector's waistband in the darkness of the car to undo it and was rubbing the hardened bulge on his pants. Hector, however, easily removed Angela's top and Angela's breasts tasted Hector's teeth. The woman couldn't hold back her moans and let out her first loud sigh to Hector. Hector couldn't sit there. He got out of the car and went to Angela, opened the door and lifted Angela's legs to pull her panties off her legs like savages. Angela looked into Hector's eyes and wanted all those moments with all her heart. Hector did his job without any questions and took control of the situation. Angela had nothing to hide. Those frequent witnesses in the bar that had been hidden between her legs were now bubbled to the surface and Hector was tasting the smell and taste of Angela's most private part through her underwear. First through her underwear and then between her legs.
Angela's legs began to tremble as Hector thrust his tongue into her and the sharp hairs of his beard brushed against the sensitive edges of her vagina. If it wasn't night and everyone was asleep, Angela would have liked to respond with her screams and the pleasure she got from this rare moment to all the hard, hard blows Hector thrust into her and be crushed under his heavy body. But still, she screamed and covered her mouth. when it came to the last moment, Hector couldn't hide the sound of his heavy breathing and not empty himself on Angela. For a few moments, neither of them said anything, and then they both laughed. Out of joy. Angela quickly came to her senses. She saw herself at the door of their house, naked in the arms of a man she hadn't known until a few hours ago. She quickly gathered herself, said goodbye to Hector, and jumped into the house.
When Hector started to drive back home, something caught his eye — her phone and underwear on the seat, forgotten. He smiled to himself, drove back, and placed cell phone carefully by her door. But not her underwear. He kept it for himself. Angela's scent was still lingering in the car.
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