The 20’s Weren’t The Only Things Roaring… (closed)

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“Mr. Wilson. You don’t understand. It’s not a matter of having space on the next ship out. Or even what that shipment might cost. Of course there is space. And our pricing is published on the flyers provided to your office months ago. The issue is the ‘scheduling fee’ that has not yet been paid.” Ed Allen was the 50 year old owner of World Wide Exports, the city’s largest and most powerful export company. But more than an exporter, Ed was a power broker wielding his power and influence across the tri state area. He was no modern day gangster although many people assumed he was the regional union leader boss or equivalent. And he was happy to let them believe it. But the truth be known, he was more powerful than the unions running the docks. And he answered to no one. While the unions could control what got loaded or unloaded on the docks, World Wide Exports controlled which ships got into the harbor and to the to the docks of the warehouse district. If he didn’t get the price he demanded, goods could spoil waiting for shipment. Or their owners could go broke due to storage fees waiting for a ship that may never come. “I’m glad we finally understand each other.” And with that, he hung up.

Ed debated going home for the evening but instead opted for a night of drinking. Closing or coercing a big deal always made him feel young and powerful. And horny. And thirsty. None of those desires could be filled at home. While the years had seen Ed’s company and power and influence grow, they had seen his wife become comfortable in their wealth, and complacent in all phases of their marriage. She was more prone to nag than compliment. Lazy and bitter. And when they had sex, which was infrequent, it was boring and lacked any kind of passion.

It was an easy choice. The Cloak Room it is! He thought to himself as he straightened the papers on his desk and turned out the lights, locking the door behind him. He bounded down the steps, light on his feet, excited by the thought of another night out this week. The sun was setting over the taller building of the city creating lengthening shadows as he rounded the corner, two blocks down, across the street and then down the stairs to the nondescript basement bar below. What looked like a vacant basement warehouse at the bottom of the stairs was anything but. Ed knocked lightly on the door, and was greeted with a small trap window opening. The man behind the door peered thought the opening, recognized him and opened the door silently. He stepped in as the door closed behind him, the door man sitting back down on a stool at the door without saying a word. He then walked down the hallway as the sounds of people having fun grew louder the deeper in the building he went. Finally reaching another door, this time with a doorman on the outside of the door. He stood quickly when he saw Ed approach.

“Good evening Mr. Allen. How are you this evening?” he said.

“Very well Cliff. Thank you. How are you tonight?”

“Doing ok. Have a great evening.”
Stepping into the Cloak Room was like stepping into another country. This was a place filled with friends, good times and refreshing drink. He looked around the room to see many familiar faces and a few he didn’t recognize. The crowd was light as might be expected on a Tuesday evening as headed to his familiar corner booth. There were no assigned seats in the Cloak Room. At least not officially. But everyone knew the corner booth was his. It was always empty and clean. And regardless of what time of night or day of the week, there was always a fresh candle burning on the center of the table. Cate was one of the young, pretty waitresses that worked the room and she dutifully followed him to his table, taking his coat as he sat down.

“What will it be tonight Mr. Allen? A cold beer? Or a nice gin this evening?” she asked as she hung his coat on the hook next to the booth.

“I’m just looking to relax and unwind tonight Cate. How about a gin?”

“Yes sir.” She said smartly as she turned and headed off to the bar.

As he waited, Ed began looking around the room. The crowd was a little younger than most nights and it was still early. He didn’t see any of his regular pals yet this evening so he settled into the back of the booth and just began watching the crowd from the shadows. He loved to watch people. And he loved to read them. It helped him gain his advantage later if they met. For him to know more about a stranger than they expected. It kept them off guard and was part of his power projection. He was very good at it and it was very effective.
 
Elizabeth Black was a partier. She had been first introduced to alcohol at a young age, when she had snuck into her parents' liquor cabinet and stolen a few sips of gin. She hated the taste, but she loved the bubbly, tingly feeling she got in her chest afterwards. A few gulps later and the feeling had worked its way up to her head, making her giddy and uninhibited. A few years later, Prohibition hit, and Elizabeth was a woman addicted to the fun of a good party by that point. She didn't drink as much as she had at first but she still couldn't get enough of the raucous laughter and fun to be had when she got together with her girlfriends and other young, vibrant people.

The first speakeasy she had been to was small and pretty sketchy, located in the back room in the basement of an already run-down building. The crowd was slimy and greasy and not at all Elizabeth's type. Her parents had always been well-off (her dad was an investment banker and her mom a homemaker) and Elizabeth was used to sharing better company than that which she found at the aptly-named Gin Shack.

Then she discovered the Cloak Room. The place was for the middle to upper class crowd, older men who had made their way in the business world and the women who were on their arms day and night. Young girls with a knack for leading these older gentlemen on when they were sans wife or girlfriend. And Elizabeth, with her 20 year old friends who had grown up with a silver spoon in their mouths.

Elizabeth wasn't spoiled, really... she had never wanted for anything, but that didn't make her bratty like a few of the girls she frequented speakeasies with. What she was, however, was a free spirit. Drinks and dancing were all she ever wanted, and despite the illegality of it, Elizabeth was unafraid.

Tonight she sipped a martini on the far side of the Cloak Room, half-listening to the ramblings of her best friend Sherry. Sherry hated sherry, and would only drink vodka or gin and tonics. Sherry also hated men and was fond of telling her girlfriends (and anyone else who would listen) about all the shortcomings of the guys she had slept with in the past month. Elizabeth was less than interested in these stories as they were frequently variations on the same tale that Sherry had told last week. What Elizabeth really wanted was to dance. Breaking into the conversation when she sensed a lull, Elizabeth offered an alternative pasttime. "Do any of you want to hit the floor with me? Break loose a little?"

After securing a group of 3 other friends who were just as sick of Sherry's stories, Elizabeth strutted to the middle of the floor with them and let herself loose. Her hair was not cut short like the current trend called for.. instead, her dark locks hung down around her bare shoulders as she began to dance, laughing with her friends as they did some variation of the Charleston with exuberant flailing thrown in there as well. She had chosen her most vibrant red dress tonight, liberally fringed and short, reaching just to mid-thigh. As she danced, Elizabeth threw back her head and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of bootleg alcohol and men's cologne and feeling the hot air pass over her skin. This was where she felt most alive.
 
The crowd was light tonight. Three men in the opposite corner drinking and laughing. A couple in another booth, the women practically sitting on his lap. Both of them oblivious to the others in the room. Two men at the bar chatting with the bartender Charlie. A few younger men standing at the near end of the bar toasting their drinks and flirting with the waitresses. And a gaggle of younger women at the far end of the bar talking amongst themselves.

Cate and Audrey were flitting about the bar serving drinks and chatting up the patrons looking for small talk. Trying to be kind while avoiding the young men at the bar. Cate swung by the bar, picked up Ed’s drink and wove her way through the empty tables to his booth.

“Her you go Mr. Allen. Our select gin. On the rocks. Two lime slices.” She said as she placed the drink on a smartly folded cloth napkin and slid it across the table to him.

“Thank you Cate.” And with that, she turned and headed back to the bar. He watched as she crossed the room, her short little skirt swinging back and forth lightly in the dim light of the bar. Ed knew the ass underneath that skirt was nice and firm. As were her small, perky tits. She had offered herself to him on more than one occasion over the last two years since he became a regular. And they had grown close over that time. As much out of familiarity as it was because he never really did take advantage of the her offer. Oh they had played around a little. On those rare nights when there were few patrons around. But it was limited to her sitting on his lap and enjoying some nice teasing and heavy petting. Not that he hadn’t thought about taking what was being offered. But it just didn’t seem to right. Not with her. She worked there. He drank there. It wouldn’t be fair to her. And it would make it awkward for him. And he didn’t want to ruin a good thing he had going. He would cop a feel once in a while and she gave him impeccable service.

He reached down and picked up the large, low glass, swirling it around a bit before raising it to his lips and enjoying the first sip. It was good. Really good. But he knew it would be. The select gin he was served was far higher quality than was served to the rest of the crowd. Standing and influence in the area had its perks. And Ed certainly enjoyed his. Excluding his nagging wife at home, he had earned the finer things in life and he made no apologies.

Looking around the room again, Ed noticed the group of young women at the far end of the bar. They were young. Younger than the regular clientele. But not the typical young crowds you might see on the street. They were a little more refined. A little more entitled. One of the women seemed to be the center of attention with most of them looking at her as she gestured with her arms and seemed to be telling some kind of story. She was pretty but seemed to lack something. One of the other girls seemed to be taking turns talking to the others in the group pointing to the small dance floor in the middle of the room. Finally, she peeled away from the girl in the middle as three of the others followed her. They began dancing slowly among themselves as the young men at the end of the bar began to take notice.
 
With her eyes closed and her mind on nothing but the music, Elizabeth was off her guard. She could hear nothing but the steady beat, feel nothing but the way her body swayed. Therefore, when a man walked up behind her and slid his hands over the curve of her hips, Elizabeth was unaware of it at first. She knew someone was there but she was finding it hard to care at that moment. It was only when his lips found the line of her jaw that she was put off from the experience.

"Excuse me...." Turning to focus her gaze on him (though his hands stayed planted relatively firmly on her body), Elizabeth was unsurprised to see a man she had come to know very well. His name was Albert and he was older than Elizabeth by just a couple of years. He liked to claim that the age difference made him wiser and more mature. He liked to claim that this made him a perfect candidate for Elizabeth to date. But Elizabeth wasn't so sure. "Oh... Albert. Hi...." Giving him the smallest smile she could muster, Elizabeth casually wiggled away from him, eager to get back into the throng of girlfriends that she had surrounded herself with.

"I just wanted to dance with ya, Elizabeth... you looked so sexy out here... those gams, that red dress... the way it frames your curves... let's get bent, baby... I'll buy you your next martini." Albert was goodlooking, and all of Elizabeth's friends had berated her in the past for not giving in to his advances. But Elizabeth couldn't bear the thought of being underneath slimy Albert for even one night. She had never led him on (or so she told herself) and yet he kept coming back like some unwanted fungus. He was sleazy and she could think of more than one occasion when he had sauntered up to her and, after being shot down, moved on to easier prey. Elizabeth had caught him in the back room with several girls, usually the ones who had no other way of advancing themselves in society. But not tonight. Tonight, Elizabeth wouldn't even take notice when he found his new victim. She didn't care anyway.

"I can't, Albert, you're just not my type..." And with that, Elizabeth buried herself in the crowd. In the midst of conversing with Albert, she had drifted away from her friends, and the throng of people on the dance floor had thickened. Deciding it was time for another drink, anyway, she made her way to the bar again, this time gravitating toward the opposite side of the room as Sherry... she didn't want to get caught up in one of those conversations again.

As she reached the heavy wooden bar, Elizabeth leaned her upper body against it, one hand gripping the edge with painted red nails. Tossing her long, curled, black hair over one shoulder, Elizabeth tapped the bar impatiently. Her dark brown eyes focused on the back of the bartender's head, willing him to come her way. She couldn't be bothered to scream for him, as she knew it would only make him testy by the time he reached her. So instead she pursed her lips, ruby red with lipstick, and leaned her body up against a barstool. She could feel the eyes of several men on her, though she wasn't one to pay much attention to it. She was a sight for sore eyes, though, as the men she interacted with daily liked to tell her. She was relatively short, but her legs still seemed to go on for miles. Her breasts, a full C cup, completed the top of her hourglass shape, narrowing down into a trim waist before flaring out again at the hips. The dress she was wearing today accentuated all of this well, hugging her body tightly, though the style of the moment opted for a more loose fitting garment worn by ladies. The "flapper" dress as they were calling it was attractive to Elizabeth... however, she liked to alter all of her clothing to tailor to her own personal style and desires. This was the reason for her long hair as well... Elizabeth had been praised for her long locks as a child, and she wasn't about to cut them simply to fit in with her friends. She liked to stand out anyway, though it didn't seem to be helping in the current situation... the bartender was still distracted at the other end.
 
Ed enjoyed watching the dance while sipping his gin in his own private dark corner of the bar. Not the literal dance. But the dance of personal interactions. How the patrons interacted with the waitresses and how they responded. How the bartender catered to or ignored those looking for another drink. And how those looking for more than a drink identified their targets, pursued them and then either succeeded in their quest or were rejected. This evening was a pretty slow evening as dances went. The couples were being couples and they were being discreet this evening. Which was not always the case. The gentlemen off to his right were regaling each other with stories of conquest and bravado but they were being pretty mild all things considered. The guys at the bar were drinking their drinks and chatting up Charlie.

The only action to pay attention to tonight was the dance on the dance floor. There were four women dancing. Together in a sense but each really dancing on their own. To their own beat and style. Ed’s attention was drawn to the shorter girl in the red dress. She was curvier than the other girls. But tight. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders. Her breasts perky and firm. Her waist narrower than you might expect accented by her wide hips. The color of her dress was a nice accent against her light colored skin in the grey smoky air of the bar. And her dance moves were smooth and fluid. Slow and deliberate. Unlike the more sharp and frantic of the dance moves of the other girls.

The younger guys at the bar watching the girls dancing. They were talking among themselves, laughing and pointing. Not exactly subtle. But that’s not unusual for the younger crowd. They have no experience. No finesse. No style. Ed watched as one of the more bold boys slid off his stool and walked up to the dance floor. He weaved his way through some of the other girls and saddled up behind the gone he Ed had been eyeing. The boy slid his hands onto her hips and whispered something in her ear causing her to turn to face him. He could see them exchanging words. They were cordial but she was clearly being cool to him, refusing his advances. She turned and left her friends on the dance floor, heading to the end of the bar alone. She looked around the bar keeping tables on the others and down the bar trying to get the attention of bartender.

Ed smiled. It always amused him to watch the younger kids courtship efforts. Sometimes they were successful. The women were no more worldly, no more sophisticated than the men that chased them. And they were often as horny as the boys were. It was when the boys tried and failed that made Ed pay the most attention. He loved watching them. Wondering how they might pursue the ladies. What technique they might use. And when they were rejected, he quickly assessed where they went wrong. How they could have turned it around and won the prize. Of course he had advantages they did not. He had experience. Confidence. Money. Power. Influence. All strengths they did not possess.

He wasn’t really horny tonight but he was in a playful mood. So he drained his drink and slid out of the booth heading to the bar. He went out of his way to move towards the far end of the bar where the girl with the red dress had settled. She still had not been noticed by Charlie and Ed was thinking he could have a little fun and help her out at the same time. Cate saw him heading to the bar and gave him an “I’m sorry” look as if she let him down for not refilling his drink but he winked at her and let her know he was heading to the bar for some fun. She understood and redirected her attention to others in need of a drink.

“Is that a martini you need refilled?” he asked as he settled next to the sexy girl in the red dress.

“Charlie! Can you fix this lovely lass up with a refill? Only this time, give her some of my special batch of gin. A pretty lady like this deserves better than the house gin. And I’ll have a refill too while you’re at it.”
 
Still having no luck with the bartender, Elizabeth leaned further up against the bar, trying to garner some attention. She was thrown a bit off her guard, however, when a man sidled up next to her. Turning to size him up, Elizabeth was pleased with what she saw. He was a very goodlooking man, well dressed and well kept. It was obvious to her right away that he had a lot of money (not surprising for someone in a place like this), and that he was an older man (a tad bit more surprising but not by much). The way he commanded the attention of the bartender also drew a great deal of respect from Elizabeth... she could tell he had done this before.

"Uhm... yeah... yeah, that'd be great." When all was said and done, the bartender (she now knew his name was Charlie) brought their drinks and nodded with respect to the mystery man of the hour, making Elizabeth wonder who he was exactly and how regular of a customer he had to be for the waitstaff to recognize him so readily and wait on him so pleasantly. "I appreciate the compliments, and the way you rounded up my drink like that. Thanks... I'm Elizabeth Black."

She took a sip of the martini slowly, reveling in the rich taste of the man's "special batch of gin". He was right. This was definitely better than the house stuff that they had been serving Elizabeth. She swirled it around on her tongue before swallowing and smiling appraisingly at her new gentleman friend. "And this martini is divine... Mr....?" She waited for him to fill in the blank, eager to get to know a guy like this. He was suave in a way that the young men who bartered for her affections could never be. This man had experience. He had maturity. He was nothing like Albert, who Elizabeth now spotted out of the corner of her eye. For once, Albert wasn't trying to zone in on a fresh kill. Instead, he was watching Elizabeth coolly, no doubt trying to discern what the relationship between her and this newcomer could possibly be.
 
“Mr. Wilson. Very nice to meet you.” He said. Without asking her name. He had clearly made his point. Helping her get a drink she struggled to get herself. And then ensuring she got a better drink. The kind she could never get without his help. That’s the kind of power he enjoyed projecting. Ed just looked at the woman and smiled a small, subtle smile. Something he learned long ago in business and in life. There was nothing so powerful, so useful as a moment of silence when others expect you to speak. It throws people off guard. And often makes them betray more than they intended. At the very least, it makes them wonder what you know, what you are holding back. He admired her smile. She was beautiful. Not just sexy. The kind of beautiful the younger boys her age would never see. And the same kind of beauty she probably didn’t see herself.

“Now that’s much better. A pretty lady like you should be smiling.” With that, he raised his glass and offered up his drink to toast hers. She raised her glass tentatively and clinked it against his. Smiling but still looking unsure of herself. “And she certainly shouldn’t be drinking that low end gin they serve the normal folk.” Now he offered up a big smile and took a long slow draw of his drink.

As he was sipping his drink, he saw the younger boy watching them. He recognized him as the same boy that tried hitting on her on the dance floor. He was looking at Ed with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. It was obvious the boy was intimidated. If there was anything more frustrating to a young boy hitting on a woman, it was watching another man be successful where he failed.

“Care to join me in my booth?” he asked the pretty woman as he glanced towards the corner and then turned to watch the boy.
 
Elizabeth watched Mr. Wilson with a smirk, sipping her martini as he introduced himself to her. The long silence that followed could only be described as painstaking, but Elizabeth was not as off-put as Mr. Wilson perhaps wanted her to be. She could see the game he was playing with her from a mile away.... it was clear that he was a man of power and position in society. He had a lot of money and influence, and he thrived on exerting it. She would play along, because she found him irresistibly sexy.

Mr. Wilson seemed to notice Albert in the corner, checking out the situation. Elizabeth drew her attention to him as well, giving him no expression that he would be able to analyze. She was sick of him acting as if she was his girl, when it was clear to anyone with eyes that she belonged to no one at the moment. Although, she wasn't sure how long she would want to belong to no one at all, looking at the man in front of her. When he invited her to his booth, Elizabeth took the opportunity immediately.

"A private booth in the corner over there? I'd love to...." Slipping off of her stool, Elizabeth grasped her martini glass and let Mr. Wilson lead the way. She slid in first, smiling as he slid in next to her. She realized with glee that from this angle, Albert could see what was going on perfectly. She wasn't much for using one man to make another jealous, but she was sure that seeing Elizabeth get chummy with an older guy would make Albert back off at least a bit. And that was what she wanted, right? It had nothing to do with the sweet smile on this older man's face. It had nothing to do with his handsome, chiseled jawline or gorgeous eyes or wonderful smelling cologne. Right?
 
The boy that had been watching them just stared, following them with his eyes as they headed back across the bar to the booth in the corner. A few of the other regular glanced up to notice the man they all knew. They watched him for a moment longer than they otherwise might, somewhat surprised to see him with a young, sexy girl in tow. As they approached the booth, Ed stepped aside to allow the pretty girl to slide in before him. The gesture was chivalrous of course. But it also afforded him the opportunity to eye the girl up close. Just because he was old enough to be her father didn’t mean he was not still sexually attracted to women. The sex with his wife had become infrequent and very vanilla over the last few years. But that didn’t stop him from satisfying his urges with other women. Ed was still very attractive for his age, a man of power and influence and a wealthy man to boot. So attracting women was never a problem for him. Granted, they were typically more mature. A little older than this young woman he met tonight.

There was something intriguing about this woman. She was young and energetic. Spirited was the word that came to mind. And she was attractive. Short and curvy. But not as soft as most girls her size. Her short red dress exposed her tone, fit legs. And the short hem of the dress rose up as she tucker her legs and slid into the booth. As she slid past him, Ed caught a light whiff of her sweet perfume. Now, as she slid around to make room for him, Ed stood over her, watching her. The red dress opening up in front, exposing her soft, full breasts. He could feel the familiar tingling in his crotch as he wondered what her nipples might be like. Small and dark? Large and pink? Sliding in next to her he saw her smiling again.

“So does the pretty lady have a name?” He asked. She said he name was Elizabeth as she offered a small hand to his. Taking her small hand in his, he cupped his other hand over hers in a more intimate and personal gesture than one might offer a new acquaintance. He greeted her with a warm, inviting smile. “Very nice to meet you Elizabeth. You can call me Ed.” Just then, a young man burst through the door of the bar rushing up to Charlie at the bar.

“The cops are here!!!”

With the panicked announcement, the crowd started scrambling for the back door, knocking over bar stools and leaving their drinks where they sat. The young woman started to race out the far side of the booth as Ed grabbed her arm and raised a hand trying to calm her down.

“Relax Elizabeth. Trust me.” He said, lifting a hidden panel behind the booth and slipping their drinks inside. Closing the lid just as the first of the policemen burst through the door. In less than fifteen seconds, the entire bar was cleared our save for the policemen that came in, the two waitresses Cate and Audrey, Charlie the bartender and one other gentlemen in the far corner of the bar. The head policeman was tense and serious as stopped and looked around. Once he saw the bar was relatively empty, he seemed to relax just a bit, looking around more intently. He saw Ed and Elizabeth in the corner, a sign of recognition in his face as he headed over towards them.

“Good evening Ed.”

“Carl” Ed replied nodding.

The policeman Carl stared at Elizabeth for a long moment before turning back to Ed. “Everything ok this evening?”

Ed looked at Elizabeth and then back at Carl. “Yep. Everything is just fine here. Did you catch you anyone tonight?”

“I’m sure we did. The ones that ran out the back anyway. We had a group out back before we came in the front. This isn’t our first bust you know. Anyway, we need to close the place down Ed. You know how this works.”

Ed thought about the young man that was hitting on Elizabeth earlier that evening. Imagining him running out the back, thinking he was getting away. Running straight into the cops in the back alley. “Yes I do Carl. Thank you. We’ll be heading out. Can you give me a second to see the lovely lady off?”

The policeman Carl just nodded lightly before turning to Elizabeth before tipping his hat politely then turning back to his crew. Ed could see the confused and slightly concerned look on her face as he explained what was happening. Speakeasy’s were illegal. Everyone knew that. But few really believed in prohibition. That included the mayor and many on the police force. There was an unwritten code in the city. Speakeasy’s were allowed to operate so long as they did so discreetly. When they became public or a neighborhood nuisance, the police had no choice to bust them up and arrest the proprietors, the staff and the patrons. The Cloakroom was well known. In the right circles. So it was allowed to operate. Recently however, there were reports of young people coming in. The kind that could not be relied on to be discreet. Or quiet. Or behaved. So the police were here to make their point. Arrest those that didn’t understand the system, those running out the back to what they thought was safety.

Ed on the other hand, was safe. And he knew it. That’s why he didn’t flinch other than to hide the obvious illicit drinks. He was a regular. A pillar of the community. And a personal friend of the mayor, the chief of police and even Carl. Cate, Audrey and Charlie were safe for much the same reason. They were not the problem. The kids who crashed the bar were the problem. So they were the ones that were caught. And taught a lesson. Elizabeth would have been one of those had she not been befriended by Ed. He knew it. And now she understood it too.
 
Elizabeth heard the telltale sound of someone running in, followed by the familiar cry of "The cops!". She had been to her fair share of speakeasies and they had been raided a decent amount of times. She was used to this drill. Her heart leaping into her throat, Elizabeth moved to exit the booth and leave her gentleman friend in the dust. Surprisingly, however, he threw his hand up to grab her arm, dragging her back next to him. She opened her mouth to protest but he was already taking their drinks and sliding them into a secret compartment in the wall. She shut her mouth quickly, realizing that in a matter of moments, the bar had cleared out. Now the only people left were the bartender and waitresses and a smattering of older patrons. When the head cop walked in, Elizabeth felt her blood run cold. She recognized him (though she wasn't sure he would recognize her)... he had busted a few of her friends in the past. When he began to stroll over to the table she was sitting at, she felt her stomach start to hurt. This couldn't end well. What if the older guy she was sharing a drink with was really a cop? What if this was their new way of catching young girls like her?

Pleasantries were exchanged between Ed and the cop, and when he turned his attention to her, she was sure she was done for. But miraculously, Ed diffused the situation. After another moment or two, the cop was walking away, leaving Elizabeth flabbergasted. She turned toward Ed when the cop was out of sight, gratuity on her face. "Thank you so much, I couldn't afford to get in trouble... my parents would kill me...." Glancing over toward the door and then back at Ed, Elizabeth reached one hand up to squeeze his arm in thanks. She really had to be going, though... it wouldn't do for her friends to wonder where she was, unsure if she had gotten caught or not.

"I guess I should be going.... though I'm not sure how to repay you for the kindness you've just shown me...." She bit her lip, sliding her hand from his arm and across the table. Her eyes caught his gaze and held there for just a moment too long before her face flushed. He was certainly attractive, and obviously powerful. "Do you frequent The Cloak Room? I've never seen you here before... but I could come back tomorrow night...."
 
Ed could feel her hand trembling lightly as she touched his arm. It was understandable given the circumstances. Given the circumstances if you hadn’t know you were safe. Which she didn’t before. But she did now. Still the excitement of the last few minutes still showed in her eyes and in her touch.

“You are most welcome Elizabeth. And you have already repaid me with the beauty of your smile and the warmth of your touch.”

“Are two ok?” It was the waitress Cate as she came over to check on her favorite client and his new guest.

“No problem Cate. Thank you. It was just Ed doing his job. As he does from time to time. But he and I have an understanding. As do the police chief and I. Same as Charlie. Nothing to worry about. Oh forgive me my manners. Cate, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is Cate.” They took turns nodding and shaking hands politely before Cate turned to Ed formally, nodded and winked and then turned and walked back to the bar.

“This is my neighborhood bar. I come here frequently though not every day. However, I might make it a point to return tomorrow if you will be here.” With that, he squeezed her hand gently but firmly, holding on long enough to imply more than a casual touch.

His touch was greeted with another lovely, inviting smile as he smiled in return. Looking deep into her eyes, he wondered what she would be like in bed. Her hands were small but warm. Her eyes deep and engaging. And her breasts were full and somewhat flush at the moment which made him smile all the more. Just how flush might be they be with him on top of her he wondered. His mind began wandering, wondering even more about her and what she might be like in bed. The more he wondered, the more he felt a stirring in his cock.

Ed finally snapped back to the here and now and released his grip on her hand. “May I walk you out?”
 
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