drunk man at the bar

A beautiful young girl dances before him, barely clothed. Small, pinpoint lights glide all over her milky white skin like frisky hands, searching for her softest parts. Smoke was rising from somewhere. He holds his beer tighter, letting beads of melted ice spill over his fingers.

Oh baby, baby, he thought, why do you have to do it?

He looks at the girl’s face, a homely face with a piercing here and there. Her hair parts like curtain, letting men get a peek at her sad, filthy eyes at her will. She’s not as beautiful as the one he lost, not nearly as beautiful, he thought. That one had an innocent face like a little girl’s. Small with piercing almond eyes, lips that tasted like wine.

No, it was my fault, he argued, she had nothing to do with it. Nothing.

He refreshes his pack and snatches a new stick. Somewhere in the city she is laughing, undressing. He closes his eyes and sees her at the foot of the bed a little drunk. She throws her purse on the table, kicks off her shoes. She unbuttons her blouse, revealing little by little the silky black bra holding her small tits. He lets her image linger in his imagination, taking in the gleaming sweat on her neck, the wet crevasse running down her breasts but he losses it. He loses her again.

Why do I have to fuck it all up?

He orders another bottle. He has been drinking all night. This has been his third bar. He has been travelling all night looking for her but she is somewhere where he can’t reach her. Somewhere with someone. Probably. The thought completely devastates him. The mere thought of someone laying his hands of what was used to be his filled him with rage and loneliness. He finally concedes that it was futile. Running her image through his brain like a looping film will do him no good. It is finally done.

A woman touches his shoulders and he gets up. He follows her through a dinky maze down the bar.

“Here you are, sir,” she tells him.

He parts the red curtain and sees a girl draped in white towel.

“Hello,” she says.


For a moment he was confused. He couldn’t take his eyes off from the girl. She smiles and undresses him. She lets her small fingers fumble at the buttons, lets her soft little hands glide down his thighs as she takes off his pants. On the bed he could feel the weight of his body press on the sheets. The girl climbs on top of him and smiles.

“You’re lovely,” he tells her.

She takes off her towel and wipes the sweat off his body. Her tits were small.

It could easily fit in my hands, he thought.

“I’ve been looking all over town for you,” he says, looking at her big almond eyes.

“Oh yeah,” she says, smiling. “I’ve been looking all over for you too.”

Suddenly, he felt his heart breaking all over again.

 “It’s just that...” he searches for the right words.

Don’t fuck it up again, he thought.

“Don’t be sad now, baby,” she coos. She cups his face with her hands and gives him tiny little kisses.

He feels as if she has unarmed him. He tries to fight off the tears.

It is over, he tells himself. Over.

He closes his eyes and thinks of her again. She’s now naked and she is smiling at him. She walks to where he is lying down. Her body looks soft and smooth and he could smell her perfumed skin. She is teasing him. He could feel a surge of emotions. He takes her hand and reaches out to kiss her. She parts her lips and for a short moment he feels as if he is drowning.


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