One Fateful Night

[chanaud]

Looking for one man to join me on this fateful night in Atlanta. If you're interested, please PM me. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this story.


In the hotel lounge, she nursed her merlot while
watching a slice of Atlanta. Actually, they appeared
to be mostly tourists, or men and women on business,
like her. Atlanta was okay. The events had gone
well, and quickly. Natalie had arrived at the informal
hotel for dinner with a few women she had met at the
meeting. But they had gone out on the town, looking for another slice of Atlanta, and she wasn't interested. So she sat alone for quiet time and observing.

A few couples sat at the candlelit tables, smiling and
leaning into each other. Several groups of mostly men
drank and talked and laughed loudly. The couple’s cute, she decided, taking a sip of her wine. And the men are having harmless fun. This is okay, Natalie thought. It’s not that bad sitting here alone.

One large group of men nearby became more boisterous.
Must be all out-of-towners at the same meeting. A man
accidentally bumped her head lightly.

"Excuse me," he apologized insincerely.

"It's okay."

"What's a cute girl like you sitting there drinking
alone?"

"Umm, thanks, I think," she said. "I'm just relaxing
for a few minutes."

He was dark-haired and not too bad-looking, but his
face was flushed from alcohol, she noticed immediately.

"Come over and join us," he offered, beads of sweat had formed a moustache. "You look like you need another glass of wine." She felt him looking at her breasts; a little too long a glance, she thought.

"No, thanks," she said. All she needed was to get
hooked up with an out-of-control guy on the prowl. If she wanted that, she would have joined the girls.

"Aww, come on," he insisted.

"No, really. I'm, uh, waiting for someone. But
thanks anyway."

Natalie crossed her legs and turned away. As she did, her
eyes found those of a bearded man, with sandy hair and fair skinned looking up from his book and at her lithe, black stocking legs. She waited a few seconds before self-consciously pulling her skirt down on the back of her top leg.

When the waitress appeared, she ordered another
merlot, and glanced at the entrance, pretending to still be waiting for her friend. Her eyes glanced again at the man with the book. He quickly looked down at his book, but not before she noticed his blush.

She looked at the man again with interest. This time he was looking into her eyes. She half-smiled and looked away. Suddenly she felt flushed as boldness crept in her. Was it only the wine? She shifted in her chair and glanced over again. He was still looking at her. She kept her gaze a little longer, then cocked her head, tried unsuccessfully to read the title of his book.

He wasn't bad looking, she decided. Actually, quite handsome. She’s never been with a man with any form of facial hair before. She wondered briefly, if it would tickle her soft skin.

Natalie began to daydream. What would it be like
if he just came over to her...

 

[catlover]

Frank

Stroking my beard, that took me months to grow -( for a long timne it just looked as if I had a dirty face)- I looked at her and our eyes met. Her head was twisted as if she were trying to read the title of my book. I smiled and turned it so she could easily see the cover

It is called Open Season on Lawyers- a take-off on all those murder mysteries where the lawyer is the hero, like are written by Grisham or Greg Iles or Steve Martini. A book about lawyers being the murder victim as a result of their case where the losing side or even their client gets a motive to do them in. Written by a woman attorney, where she calls the perpetrator an atterminator!

Very timely as it takes place in Southern California!

She smiled and I went over and sat in the chair next to her. I introduced myself and she told me her name was Natalie, a pretty name for an attractive lady about my age

We talked about what we were doing in Atlanta. It was my first trip here and I didnt know anyone nor have any connections here. One of the companies I represent was having a meeting here, so I was just looking for a comfortable chair in which to sit and read my book and watch the action.

I had seen the pushy guy come over and try to pick her up, and she declined and kept looking at the door as if she were expecting someone.

She laughed and told her she was expecting to meet someone, and that was me. She finished her wine and stood, and suggested we go into the bar and listen to the music that we could barely hear out in the lobby. So much for the book, but it would keep until the plane ride home.

I took her arm and in the bar we found a table near the small dance floor, and set our stuff down and headed out to dance. She was just the right height and fit perfectly in my arms

A turn or two and her face was snuggled next to mine. Too soon the song ended and we returned to our table. She asked me and I told her I was married and she told me she was too and here for a meeting.

I smiled at her and suggested that this was the meeting we had come to Atlanta for