Winnie brings back the wine and introduces herself. “I’m Winnie by the way.”
“Hi Winnie, I’m Lily.”
“That a pretty name.” Winnie points to us. “That’s Stain and Sappho. I think Sappho is a superhero name.”
Stain laughs and points to himself. “Stain is a superhero name also.”
Lily gives no look of judgement or concern, and she has no ill tone in her voice. “You’re superheros, for real?”
Stain fields the question by saying that “yes, we are indeed. I’m also an artist, and Sappho’s a poet.”
Lily’s posture changes. She’s becoming relaxed and intrigued. She looks right at Stain. “What kind of artist are you?”
“I’m a painter. I like to sketch as well, especially people. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a talent agent for models.”
“Really? I don’t mean to be rude, but you look so young.”
“It’s a business for girls. I started off in modeling when I was a teenager, and once you can’t take the starvation and the orders anymore, you either leave or become management. Sure, I’m only 23, but I’m way too old and way too fat to be a model.”
Stain is floored by this comment. “You are young, beautiful, and skinny.”
“They’re younger and skinnier than I am.”
I can tell that Stain and Lily are having a kick ass time, but the only thing on my mind are Winnie’s breasts, which look great through her shirt. I walk away from the conversation, completely unnoticed by everyone, except Winnie. I motion her to come with me. She shakes her head no. I motion her again, and she looks a little mad, but she follows.
“I can’t go too far. I’m still working.”
“I know, but you have to show me.”
Winnie takes my hand and excitedly pulls me to the corner of an outdoor parking lot. She lifts her shirt and bra. I put my hand on her stomach to see if it’s OK, and she lets out a little a breath. I move my hand up around her breast and begin kissing her lips. Her hand quickly moves down my pants and grabs the soldier like she’s trying to choke the life out of him. She takes her other hand and begins touching herself, slower and more gently. We keep kissing, tongues caressing. She starts to scream; she’s loud. My ears are ringing in pain; she’s so loud, but it’s such a turn on. She unbuckles my pants, and pulls the BMOC right out, spits on her hand a few times, and gives it a really fast go. My legs are shaking, hands trembling, but right at that moment a car pulls up and shines the headlights right on Winnie and me.
“Oh, Fuck. I better get back to work. Sorry, but thank you.” Winnie kisses my lips, hurriedly, three times and runs back to work.
A lady gets out of the car; she’s at least 70 years old. She stares at me, sees that I’m in full salute and doesn’t look away. Out of nothing more than curiosity, I pull it a bit to see her response. She looks more frightened than anything. “You can’t do that here.”
I was hoping for a weird 70+ experience, but it was more of a concerned citizen scenario. Now I feel like the weird creepy pervert guy who just violated someone’s Grandma. I’m probably going to be in the news. I still can’t keep it down though, even after that detrimental experience, after two successful takes offs with no missiles launched, I think I’ll be flying high for the rest of the day. I saunter back to the bar with an irreversible bulge in my pants.