Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1)

by Rae Matthews

  “So, Sebastian-” I start.

  “No, call me Bash. Really only my Grandpa calls me Sebastian,” he interrupts.

  “Ok Bash, looks like it’s just the two of us left out here. Can I trust you to sit here and not take advantage of me?”

  “I’m not sure you are going to be able to control yourself if I happen to get a little too close.”

  We let out a little sexual frustration, chuckle, and start to just talk. We don’t talk about anything very important. I tell him about working at the Broken Jukebox, and how much I love it, and how that makes it harder to try and figure out what I should really be doing with my life.

  He tells me that he’s twenty-seven, and talks all about the family business he helps to run. He and his parents own a small motel just outside of town in Stoddard. He and His dad also have a small guide service for vacationing fishermen that come to town.

  We talk with ease, as if we have known each other for years. I smoothly put my hand on his arm, and give him a little nudge when I think he’s teasing me, and he has no problem putting his hand on my thigh, slightly caressing my skin several times.

  The fire is starting to die, but we realize we are out of wood. The cool air that the fire had been pushing back was finally finding its way to us. It feels good on my slightly burnt skin. My body shivers as the wind blows a gust toward us. Bash notices and pulls me closer, sharing his body heat.

  “You’re getting cold and it’s getting late. We should probably go to bed,” Bash says.

  “I really don’t want this night to end,” I reply honestly.

  “I know, neither do I. But the sun will be up in a few hours, and we really should get some sleep.”

  “I know. I guess I’m just not looking forward to sleeping all alone in that tent,” I say with a grin.

  Bash lets out a laugh. “I see where you’re going with this, but like I said, I’m not prepared.”

  “Oh, get your mind out of the gutter! Contrary to my actions earlier, I’m really not that easy,” I smirk.

  “Pardon me for being presumptuous. May I ask what you meant by your previous statement?”

  “I just meant that I was not looking forward to sleeping alone in my tent. Nothing more. Just that simple,” I flirt back.

  “I see. So if I offered to join you, and promised to control myself, you would accept?”

  “Only if you pinky swear that you will be on your best behavior,” I say as I stick out my right pinky.

  “I think I can handle that,” he says while locking his pinky with mine.

  We head for my tent, and as I kneel down to open the zipper, I can feel him crouch down behind me. “Hey, let me help you with that,” I can feel his breath on my neck as he says it. I let go of the zipper pull and allow him to unzip the doorway. I thought he was going with the hands off approach, but I guess he is going for the I’m gonna get you all hot and bothered and then let you try to go to sleep approach.

  We climb inside the tent, and I unzip my sleeping bag all the way to turn it into a blanket that we can both lay on. He zips the door shut, and then turns toward me. “I’ll sleep next to the door, just in case I need to fight off any angry critters,” he says with a wink.

  I might be the only thing he will need to fight off if he keeps this up. We lay down, and he quickly pulls me closer. I place my head on his chest, and can hear his heart beating. It’s beating so fast. Almost as fast as mine. We don’t say anything, and I can feel my eyes getting heavy. I move my head just enough to be able to look into his eyes once more before I fall asleep.

  I can feel the sun warming the inside of the tent. It’s bright, and heat is seeping through the vinyl walls. I want to keep my eyes closed forever, and wish it could still be last night just a little longer. I slowly open my eyes, hoping to see Bash lying next to me. Though as I pry my tired eyes open, I see that he is gone. I’m disappointed, but I suppose it is a good thing since, I’m sure to be the last one up. Megan and Sadie would never let me live it down if Bash were to exit my tent with me.

  I roll over and put my head into my pillow, hoping that this is the dream, and I will wake up next to Bash any moment. I can feel a vibration next to me, and realize that my phone has a message for me. I slowly lift my head and reach for it. After a quick swipe on the screen, it comes alive.

  Bash: Good Morning. I’m sorry I had to leave before you woke up. I want to see you again so I hope you don’t mind that I programmed my number in your phone and yours in mine.

  My heart sank and fluttered all at once. Bash was gone. But he wanted to see me again! I wonder for a moment how long I should wait before I text him back. I don’t want to seem desperate or too eager or anything. Should I even text him at all? Yesterday had its bumps, but for the most part, it was a perfect night, and on that night he was the perfect man. Do I want to destroy that beautiful illusion when I find out that he really does have a girlfriend and was just living in the movement last night, or that maybe he will be a bed-wetter or some shit?

  I sit there staring at my phone for a few solid minutes more. “Oh Sasha, quit making such a big deal about this,” I say out loud to myself. Oh fuck it. One quick text would be ok. I mean, I owe it to my vagina to at least see where this could go. I bring my phone to life and speak my message.

  Sasha: Good Morning Bash, I had a great time last night. I look forward to seeing you again soon.

  I double-check the words in the text message, since this is one text that I really want to be right; the last thing I need right now is to look like a giant idiot because my phone hates me. I hit send quickly before I have the chance to change my mind.

  I pack up my things and get ready to go find Megan and Sadie to give them the details of my evening. I’m sure they are awake, and must be having a staring contest with my tent, waiting for me to get my ass up.

  When I crawl out of my tent, the sun blinds me for a moment. As I look up, I see Megan and Sadie sitting on their beach chairs facing me. Yup, staring contest. I see smiles on their faces, and when I turn to grab my things and break down the tent, I hear Sadie say, “Oh fuck a pink baboon, Megan. You win.” I shoot them both a look, and they start laughing. It’s pretty clear what they bet on. I’m sure that they were sitting there, waiting for the walk of shame show, and that must be the reason that they didn’t come screaming into my tent to wake me up for the lowdown.

  After quickly taking my tent down, Megan and Sadie begin listing every possible scenario that could have occurred last night, and they try to guess how my evening went. I walk over to them, trying to act like I have no idea what they have been talking about, even though they made no effort to hide it from me.

  “So, when are we going to head back in?” I ask.

  “Oh, hell no! You are not getting away with that as your opener. We have been sitting here, waiting the last hour for you to get up and tell us what happened!” Megan shouts, as Sadie nods her head in agreement.

  “Why? I have no idea what you are talking about,” I say, an I’m not going to tell you shit grin plastered on my face.

  My friends are about to freak out on my ass and start in on the third degree when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. My eyes pop and I grab it. I have a text message. I close my eyes again, hoping that it will be from Bash. Also hoping that he tells me that he has been thinking about me, and that he wants to see me right now. I open my eyes, and then the message, and see that parts of my wish came true. It is a message from Bash, and I can’t hold back the smile that is forming on my face.

  Bash: What are you doing Wednesday?

  My smile turns into a full-fledged, dopey ass grin. When I started to jump up and down, you would have thought I just won the lotto or something. “He wants to see me again on Wednesday!” I shout. Megan and Sadie jump up from their chairs and join me in a ring around the rosie dance, all while screaming and hugging each other.

  THE LAST FEW DAYS COULD not have gone by any more slowly. Bash and I messaged each other a few times, but we rea
lly only talked about the details for Wednesday. We decided to keep it low key and just go out for a few drinks and appetizers. I had to work that afternoon, so I told him to pick me up at five o’clock. He then teased me, asking if that was in real time or girl time. At least I know he does have a sense of humor.

  Tuesday night, Megan and Sadie came over to help me decide on an outfit. I never go on a first date without my fashion forward friends’ advice. I learned my lesson the hard way after I once went out on a first date to a nice restaurant wearing regular jeans and a She-Ra T-shirt. I thought I was showing that I was fun and laid back, but I guess he thought I was being lazy or a smartass of some sort.

  Even though my date with Bash was supposed to be low key, he still insisted on taking me to Piggy’s Blues Lounge. It was actually an upper-scale restaurant with a lounge attached, featuring the atmosphere necessary to set the mood.

  Three hours, two bottles of wine, and one decimated closet later, our search for the perfect outfit was over. We finally decided on my Lucky Jeans, a dark wash and with just a few small rips along the thigh and hips. They were skin-tight, and they have never failed me before. On top we chose a black sequined, slightly loose V-neck tank, paired with my glittery red demi-stilettos. We were all sure that this outfit couldn’t fail me. Yes, the shoes looked like something taken out of the Wizard of Oz, but that was the magic about them. They made my ass look even better in my jeans, and all of the items together should get his mind right where I want it.

  Normally, I would try to hold off from sex for at least a few weeks or a month after dating a guy, so that I didn’t seem like such a slut. It also helped to keep them coming back to get to know me better before they got the prize that they were after. Because really, how many people do you know who banged their husbands on the first few dates? Yes, there are probably a few special examples out there, but come on. This is La Crosse, Wisconsin. That shit just doesn’t happen here. Plus, my inner volcano has been screaming for an eruption, and I figure that a happy volcano makes for a happier me, so why not take the plunge? Besides, my old rule had been landing me total freaks lately anyway, so maybe it was time to shake things up a little.

  After choosing an outfit, I had successfully convinced myself that it was ok to have sex with Bash tonight. As I started thinking about how the date might end, I started to daydream about him. I realized that I hadn’t had another daydream of Bash since before the beach party. Before I knew it, Bash was mentally pushing me up against the wall while unbuttoning my jeans, sliding them down my thighs just enough for him to slip his hand inside my panties and tease my lady bits. As he kisses my neck, he caresses me down below. Bash is taking it slow, teasing me with his fingers, and slipping one in and out ever so tenderly. Then with a sudden thrust of passion, he starts using two, and with them he introduces himself to my g-spot. Oh glorious g-spot, how I love thee. He continues to bring me closer to ecstasy while kissing me with such passion that I can feel myself preparing for him to be inside me. My heart is pounding, and now I need him inside me. I have to feel his cock thrusting between my legs. I’m getting so close, and I can feel the release forming when he stops to ask, “Do you have any more toilet paper?” What? I snap out of it, just to realize that Sadie is the one asking me the question, and My Stallion is nowhere to be seen.

  Why must I torture myself like this? I keep mentally building him up and getting myself all worked up, so much so that he may not ever be able to live up to the standards that I have now become accustomed to in my dreams. I have to find out tonight so that I can finally get these dreams out of my head. I mean, I’m not sure how much more of this my lady parts will be able stand. I know my battery operated Cabana Boy and I get along really well at this point, but I need the real thing, and soon. Plus, my Cabana Boy is begging for some time off.

  Megan and Sadie didn’t stay too much longer after that. They needed to get home, and I needed to clean up a little, in case the date ends here. My apartment isn’t much, but its home. It’s a cute little studio, but not like the depressing studios that drunks live in with their hot plates and plug-in kettles. It’s old and stylish, with hardwood floors and a full kitchen. I like to think that I have maximized all available space inside, and at the end of the day, I’m proud of it.

  I really didn’t feel like cleaning, but if I was about to have hot sex for the first time with Bash here, I can’t have the place littered with bowls of half-eaten cereal on the counter and pizza boxes piled by the door. It had to look like a chick actually lived here, so clean and pretty was my goal. I even changed my bed from the She-Ra sheets to black, 300-thread count fuck me sheets. I fluffed the sheer curtains I had put up to divide my bedroom from the living room archway, and even borrowed Betty’s vacuum cleaner to get the floors really clean.

  When I wake the next morning, it dawns on me that Wednesday is finally here. I roll out of bed and slowly get ready for the afternoon shift at the bar. I hope it’s busy, so that the day goes by faster. I can’t wait for Bash to pick me up. I’m not sure how I managed to keep it together the last few days and not text Bash, telling him to come over and have his way with me now, and that there was no need to feed me or buy me alcohol first.

  As I head out to work, I make one more last check of the apartment. I have wine in the refrigerator, fuck me music on the CD player, and my clothes are set out and ready, so all I have to do is come home, shower, shave, and then it’s party in my vajayjay time. Well, I suppose I should let him take me out first so I don’t seem like a gigantic slut.

  AT THE END OF MY shift, I race home to get ready for the evening ahead. I’m only an hour away from my date with Bash, and what I hope will be the night of my life. A night that I can look back on and say, that’s how it’s done. At 4:10 I’m in the shower, and by 4:20 I’m clean, have shaved, and am drying off.

  As I put my makeup on, I can’t stop myself from wondering what Bash is thinking at this very moment. Is he thinking about how the night will go and how he plans to work his way back up to my apartment? I wish I could just tell him, “Don’t worry, you’re gonna get lucky tonight.” That way we can put all of the first date awkwardness and pretentions to the side and just have fun together. But that would probably backfire and give him the impression that I am seriously slutty.

  I’m dressed and ready to go at 4:55, just in time to sit down for a few moments and catch my breath. I grab my cell phone and wait patiently for him to text that he is outside waiting for me, but I hear a knock at the door instead. My heart jumps with excitement, but then my next thought is that it’s probably just Betty checking to see if I’m home before she raids my refrigerator again.

  I open the door and see that it is not Betty, but Bash standing before me. Oh fuck me now; he looks hot. He has on nice jeans and a dark blue button up shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I notice that the shirt is a little tight around his biceps and I want to tell him, “Oh, you can just take the shirt off now, I don’t mind.” But he looks sexy as hell in it, so I stop myself. I see he is holding a single red rose.

  I smile at him and try my best to say anything other than, Hi would you like to come in, rip off my carefully planned outfit, and pleasure me until morning?

  “Hello. You are right on time. That’s impressive,” I finally spit out.

  “I’m the one who is impressed. You’re ready at five in actual time, not girl time.” He gifts me with a smile before handing me the rose.

  “Oh, is that for me?” I ask, as if I didn’t already know the answer.

  “Yes. It’s actually from Grandpa George. It is a token of his apology and deepest regret,” he says.

  “Oh thank god. I thought you were gonna be one of those off the wall, corny as hell first dates.” I let out a sigh of relief.

  He offers a little laugh and a smile and asks, “Should we get going?”

  “Absolutely. Just let me put this in some water and grab my purse.” As I turn from the door, I can see him adjust his pants, just a little.
I have to say, so far I think my jeans have not let me down.

  As we make our way out to his car, we start in with the small talk. How nice I look, how our respective days were, how Grandpa George is doing, how much I like his car, and on and on. By the time we get to Piggy’s, we have run out of go-to’s, and now it’s all about getting to know him and enticing him back to my place for the real fun to begin.

  As we walk through the front door, I mentally confirm that the atmosphere is just what I needed, with low lights and candles spread out along the bar and on each table. There is soft jazz playing over the sound system, and I feel fucking hot. Things are looking good for me. We find seats at the bar and order our drinks.

  “I’d like a Slow Screw,” I say to the bartender with a smile, and then look to Bash for him to order.

  “I will have a Crown and Seven.” He says, still looking at me. He has a sexy little grin forming, but it’s hard to tell if he found that cute or as an invitation.

  He grabs his wallet and pulls out some cash to pay for the drinks. He continues looking at me, directly into my eyes. I have no idea what to say. He still has that smirky grin on his face, so I’m sure his mind is just swimming with ideas as to what my order could mean. The bartender quickly brings our drinks back, and as I take my first sip I hear, “So it’s gonna be that kind of a date, huh?”

  I look up as he takes a sip of his drink, and I can see that he is still holding onto that grin, even though my view is now obstructed by his glass.

  “Bash, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just happen to enjoy slow gin and orange juice, and that combination just happens to be called a slow screw,” I say in a coy tone.

  “Ok I see how you are.” he replies, taking another sip of his drink

  “A bartender?” I offer with a smile.

  The evening is going as planned, so far. We have a few more drinks and continue to flirt with each other, both subtly and shamelessly. When we finally decide to order some food, he asks if I would like dinner, but I suggest that we stick with appetizers as we had previously agreed, mostly to take advantage of happy hour prices. We decide to order coconut chicken fingers, and of course I eat mine slowly, taking little bites. I try to be a sexy as one can be while eating something that has been deep-fried.